In the end, it had only taken Aziraphale two weeks to realise that he had made a terrible mistake.
It wasn't like he didn't have any experience with making mistakes, of course. There had been the time when he was almost discorporated by Nazis, not to mention the catastrophic magic show afterwards… Once, he had even sold one of his books by accident!
But this—leaving Crowley behind, choosing Heaven over him—might have been the biggest mistake of his entire existence.
He had been crazy to think that this could work, that he could actually make a difference—one angel against all of Heaven. Yes, he had helped save Earth once before, and he had hoped he might be able to do it again, but even he had to admit that it was mostly the humans themselves who had prevented Armageddon. Aziraphale had just been at the right place at the right time.
And, more importantly, he had been at the right place at the right time with Crowley. Without him, Aziraphale wouldn't have stood a chance against Heaven or Hell, let alone both together, and… Without Crowley, would it even have been worth it?
Aziraphale loved Earth, there was no doubt about that, and he loved humanity even more. But would he still love it as much without Crowley by his side, marvelling at the humans’ creativity, enjoying their inventions together? Without Crowley, would he even have understood why Earth deserved to be saved?
Even if it had worked, if he could have changed Heaven’s plans, it wouldn't have been worth leaving Crowley like this. Aziraphale had seen the tears in Crowley's eyes when he told him that nothing could last forever. He had felt the desperation in his kiss, like a silent prayer for him to stay, whispered from Crowley's lips to his.
And yet, Aziraphale had left. He had left without explaining that he wasn't just trying to protect humanity, but also Crowley. After everything that Heaven and Hell had put him through, Crowley deserved to be safe, and happy, and loved. Aziraphale had hoped that if he could just get Heaven to understand, if he could change their minds, then maybe…
Aziraphale shook his head. It was too late for that now. He might be unable to keep Crowley safe from Heaven, but maybe he could still save their relationship. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could do what he had been thinking about ever since he had left the bookshop and ask Crowley to kiss him again.
Aziraphale took a deep breath, carefully placed his resignation letter on the desk in his office, and stepped into the lift.
***
He’d had a whole speech prepared. In his mind, Aziraphale had wooed Crowley like one of the heroes in his favourite romance novels, and Crowley had forgiven him, and they had kissed again, romantic music playing in the background… Then he looked at Crowley and instantly forgot all about his plans.
He had been standing outside the bookshop, working up the courage to go inside, and watched through the window as Muriel tried their best to get rid of a particularly persistent customer. Aziraphale winced as the man unceremoniously ripped a book out of Muriel's hands and almost tore one of the pages in the process. He probably deserved that, he supposed, for leaving his beloved book collection behind.
Just as the customer was about to press a frankly ridiculously small sum of money—that was a first edition, not a cheap paperback!—into Muriel's hands, an enormous black snake appeared behind them, glaring at the man with striking golden eyes.
“Crowley,” Aziraphale breathed, watching in awe as Crowley hissed and growled at the customer, causing the man to flee and leave both the book and the money behind.
Of course Crowley had stayed. His demon had always been so protective of the bookshop, just because he knew how much Aziraphale loved it. And Aziraphale had repaid him for his loyalty by abandoning him there, in the place that had slowly become their home.
Crowley miracled the book back to its correct place on the shelf, but instead of turning back into his more human-like form, as Aziraphale had expected him to, he slithered over to the sofa and coiled up there, resting his head on his shiny black coils. There was no trace of the angry, hissing creature he had been just a few moments ago—he looked much more like a sad, abandoned puppy, and that was when Aziraphale just couldn't take it anymore. He pushed open the door and stormed into the bookshop, finally ready to fix his mistakes.
***
He was greeted by Muriel, who was much more excited about his return than he had anticipated. “Mr. Fell, you're back!” they called and, to his slight horror, immediately wrapped their arms around him.
Aziraphale awkwardly patted their shoulder. “Indeed, I am,” he said, looking at Crowley out of the corner of his eye. “And I won't leave again.”
“Great! Oh, I mean, it's not great that you're not the Supreme Archangel anymore!” Muriel chuckled nervously. “But it's so great to have you back, and I really don't think I can keep managing the bookshop anymore, so—”
“I understand.” Aziraphale smiled in a way he hoped was reassuring, but he couldn't help but stare at Crowley, who still hadn't reacted to his arrival.
Muriel followed his gaze, and their eyes widened. “Oh, you don't have to be scared of the snake!” they exclaimed. “That's just Mr. Crowley! He has been helping me with the bookshop. Somehow, the humans leave much more quickly when he's in this form! Humans are so weird.” They giggled excitedly, but after a few moments, their smile faded.
“Mr. Fell, are you alright?”
Aziraphale startled a little. He hadn't even realised he had stopped paying attention to Muriel's excited rambling.
“Oh, yes,” he tried to reassure them, “I–I am quite alright, thank you. Would you please give me a moment alone with Crowley?”
“Of course!” they replied and disappeared without another word. From the surprised screams across the street, Aziraphale guessed they had miracled themselves straight over to Nina's coffee shop. Aziraphale sighed and slowly began to walk towards the sofa.
***
“Crowley?” he called out cautiously. “Crowley, I'm back.”
There was no response. “Crowley?” Aziraphale asked again. “I–I know you're angry at me, and you have every right to be, but can't you at least look at me? Please?”
Slowly, so slowly, Crowley began to lift his head until he was staring directly into Aziraphale's eyes, and for a moment, Aziraphale forgot how to breathe.
Had Crowley's eyes always been this golden? Had his gaze always been this mesmerising? The only thing Aziraphale knew for sure was that he had never seen Crowley's eyes so full of pain and heartbreak before.
“Oh, Crowley,” he whispered and dropped to his knees to cradle his demon's face in his hands. “Crowley, I am so sorry.”
For a moment, Crowley just looked at him with wide eyes, but then he hissed furiously and snapped at Aziraphale’s hand, tail swishing like an angry cat's.
“Crowley, stop that!” Aziraphale yelped. Crowley just hissed again, coiling even tighter. “Really, my dear. How am I supposed to talk to you when you're like this?”
Crowley's head snapped up at that, and he stared at Aziraphale. “Like what?” he hissed. “Like a snake? Like a big bad demon?”
“No!” Aziraphale stared at him in horror. Was that what Crowley thought? That Aziraphale had left him for being a demon? “Crowley, that's not—”
“Forget it.” Crowley sighed and went back to staring blankly out the window. “Why are you even here? Thought the Supreme Archangel wasn't allowed to talk to the bad guys.”
Of course you said no to Hell, you're the bad guys. How could he have said something like this to Crowley? Crowley, who was kinder than any angel Aziraphale had ever met, who was so sweet and silly and curious and had risked his entire existence so many times to save Aziraphale?
“Crowley, I—”
But Crowley wasn't listening to him. “Or are you here to turn me into an angel after all?” he muttered. “I mean, I said no, but—”
“Crowley!” Aziraphale interrupted. He reached out to touch Crowley again but changed his mind halfway through. He didn’t want to scare Crowley, so his hand hovered awkwardly over his black coils. “Crowley, I promise I won't try to turn you into something you're not. Not anymore. I'm here to apologise.”
He looked at Crowley, waiting for a reaction, but Crowley remained silent, staring out the window as if Aziraphale wasn’t even there.
“Oh, and I–I should probably mention I'm not the Supreme Archangel anymore,” Aziraphale continued, fiddling nervously with the loose threads on his waistcoat. ”I resigned.”
Crowley's head swung around, and he looked at Aziraphale with wide eyes. “You what?”
“I resigned,” Aziraphale repeated with a sigh. The guilt of rejecting Heaven still lingered in his mind, but it was nothing compared to the pain of losing Crowley.
Crowley stared at him. “Why?” he asked, his expression unreadable.
“Because…” Aziraphale took a deep breath. This was it. His one chance to get Crowley back. ”Because you were right. I was an idiot. I thought—I hoped I could change things in Heaven, make a difference. Rather foolish of me, wasn't it?” He chuckled nervously, hoping for a reaction, but Crowley just kept staring blankly at him. Aziraphale sighed.
“Crowley, I… I made a mistake. I shouldn't have left you, not like this. You mean so much more to me than Heaven ever did. I'm sorry it took me so long to realise that. Please forgive me.”
He had expected Crowley to be angry with him, to hiss and snarl and glare—and Aziraphale would have understood.
But instead, Crowley just stared at the floor. “Isn't forgiveness more your thing?” he asked so quietly that Aziraphale wanted to cry.
“Crowley—”
“Nina and Maggie warned me, you know,” Crowley interrupted. “That I would lose you if I didn't talk to you about what I'm really thinking. So, I tried being honest. Told you what I want. And I lost you anyway.”
If Aziraphale’s heart hadn't already been broken, the look in Crowley’s eyes surely would have broken it now.
“I tried, angel, I really did. I tried to do everything right. I didn't mean to push you, I just thought… I would have followed you everywhere, Aziraphale, but I can't go back to Heaven. I know you wanted everything to be like the old times, but I… I can't be that happy angel anymore. I'm sorry.”
Aziraphale knew a thing or two about snakes—the inevitable result of being friends with one for more than six thousand years. He even kept a small stack of snake care guides in the back of his bookshop, just in case. Therefore, he was confident that snakes were physically incapable of crying. Something to do with a lack of tear ducts, he guessed.
And yet, right there in front of him, Crowley's beautiful golden eyes filled with tears.
“Oh! Oh, Crowley,” Aziraphale called, alarmed, and rushed towards him. “Crowley, my dear, please don't cry.”
But Crowley barely seemed to hear him. “I'm sorry, angel. I didn't mean to fight with you, I can't—”
“Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly. How could they have misunderstood each other so badly, after knowing each other for thousands of years? “I know. I know that now. You tried so hard to be honest with me, and now it's my turn, so please listen to me, will you?”
Crowley nodded quietly.
“I don't want you to change, Crowley, not unless you want to change. The only reason I wanted you to come back to Heaven with me was that you were so happy there, with your stars and your glittering clouds—”
“Nebulas,” Crowley corrected.
Aziraphale sighed. “What I mean to say is: I didn't want to fix you, Crowley. I wanted to fix Heaven for you so you could be happy again.”
“Angel,” Crowley whispered, and Aziraphale almost melted at the pure, unfiltered adoration in his eyes. “I don't need Heaven to be happy. Or Hell. I… I just need you.”
At that, Aziraphale couldn’t hold himself back anymore, and apparently, neither could Crowley. They both moved towards each other, trying to get as close as possible, and Crowley wrapped himself around Aziraphale’s hips and squeezed him tightly—so tightly that Aziraphale could barely breathe.
“Crowley!” Aziraphale laughed, gently trying to loosen Crowley's death grip on him. “You silly old serpent, stop that! You're not even a constrictor snake!”
“M’ not trying to eat you, angel,” Crowley said, glaring at him. “But you're right. I, er, might be a bit out of practice when it comes to hugs.”
Aziraphale smiled indulgently at him. “Well, we can’t have that. I shall have to hug you much more often from now on.”
“Good.” Crowley sighed happily, snuggling closer and resting his head on Aziraphale’s shoulder. Aziraphale’s heart ached with affection. If he had known cuddling with his demon felt so lovely, he would have done it centuries ago.
“I really am sorry, angel,” Crowley said after a while, more serious now. “I know I went too fast for you, I shouldn't have—”
“Crowley,” Aziraphale gently interrupted his nervous rambling, “I agree that your timing wasn't ideal, but… You have waited long enough for me, my dear. It's time for me to pick up the pace, don't you think?”
Crowley’s eyes widened in surprise as Aziraphale leaned in to press a soft kiss to the top of his head, sighing at the feeling of Crowley’s smooth, cool scales against his lips. This, Aziraphale decided—his demon safe in his arms, in the home they had built together—felt so much holier than Heaven ever had.
“Was that alright?” Aziraphale whispered after a moment of silence, worrying that he had overstepped a boundary.
“Ngk,” Crowley replied eloquently, and Aziraphale guessed he might have blushed if he wasn't currently in snake form.
“What was that?”
“Angel,” Crowley whined softly, hiding his head under his coils in embarrassment and looking so adorable that Aziraphale wanted to giggle with joy. “Yesss. Of course it is.”
“Oh, good!” Aziraphale smiled, relieved. ”Maybe once you're back in your human form, you can kiss me again?”
Crowley tilted his head curiously. “Really? You'd like that?”
“Very much so,” Aziraphale nodded eagerly, beaming. “But before that… I think I still have some of your favourite wine right—,” he looked around the bookshop, trying to find the bottle he was looking for, “well, somewhere here. So, what would you say to a nice alcoholic breakfast, hm? Just the two of us?”
The tears that had been gathering in Crowley’s eyes finally fell then, and he coiled up in Aziraphale’s arms, trembling.
“Oh! Oh, Crowley, what's wrong?” Aziraphale asked, hugging his serpent close.
“Nothing.” Crowley gave him a teary but genuine smile. “I just really missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
***
“Can I have that wine now?” Crowley asked after a while. “Think I need it. It's been a long day.”
“Of course, my dear.” Aziraphale stroked Crowley’s scales one last time before hurrying off to prepare their breakfast. He didn't want to let go of Crowley, didn't want to leave him even for a second. But he knew that Crowley would be waiting for him when he came back—and Aziraphale would do everything he could to show Crowley that he would always, always come back to him.