Archive of Our Own ^beta

He saved it until after Crowley went home for the night.  Or, more recently, went upstairs to go to sleep. As much as he loved his companion of several millennia, the was far too personal, even for the person who had seen him at his worst and at his best.  Crowley always thought too highly of him, Aziraphale worried that this would disappoint him. That look he had in the bandstand, and again outside the shop right before the Apocawasn’t was one Aziraphale ever wanted to see again.

So this was one secret he would keep. 

Once he felt Crowley relax and the sense of peace Crowley only ever seemed to have while sleeping seeped down from upstairs, Aziraphale put out the lights in the shop and retired to the back room.  This was best left to less official channels.  

Checking once more that Crowley was asleep, Aziraphale fell to his knees, bowed his head and prayed.  

He never used to do that.  Before the Armageddon that didn’t, Aziraphale could always feel God with him.  She was never far, even if he never heard from Her. There was no need for direct communication because She was always there.  She knew and She loved and She would always be there for him. 

Or so he thought. 

Then Gabriel, Beelzebub, and the rest of Heaven and Hell tried to end the world and where was God?  Was She cheering them on or was She as horrified at this as he was?  

Either way, She did nothing to stop it and if it wasn’t for the very human Antichrist, the world would have been lost.  And yes, it might all be part of the Ineffable plan but to leave the fate of the world in the hands of an eleven-year-old boy wasn’t right.  Aziraphale needed an answer, needed to know that Crowley, Adam, and he were on the right side of the war to end all wars. He needed to hear it directly from God Herself.  But no one could get through to Her, at least no one in Heaven. Only Metatron spoke directly with the Almighty and he’d been as on board with the “end the world” plan as everyone else up there.  

No, the angelic methods of communicating with God were gone as far as Aziraphale was concerned, so he was forced to resort to the more human method.  She’d always preferred them anyway, over all of Her creation, so maybe that was the way to approach it, as a human (or as close as Aziraphale could approximate).  

“God,” he said softly, knowing that if She was listening, She would hear no matter how loud he was.  “I know that according to Gabriel and the others, you are displeased with me and if that is true, I am truly sorry.  I never wished to go against you. I only...”  

Here he paused as he did each and every time, and took a deep breath, knowing that what he wanted to say could make him one of the Fallen just as it had for Crowley all those years ago.  “I only thought that they don’t deserve it. There is some wicked among them, even among those who consider themselves your followers. But there is so much good here, so much that they could become.  Everywhere you look, you can see signs of their goodness. Why would you punish them for learning and growing?”  

He paused, waiting to fall but it never came.  “Give me a sign, please? Some sign that I did the right thing.  Because it was the right thing, wasn’t it? I once believed angels couldn’t do wrong but now I’m not so sure.  Please, Lord.”

As always, his pleas fell on deaf ears and Aziraphale sighed, letting his chin rest against his chest.  He wanted to believe, wanted it more than almost anything in the world, but it was becoming harder and harder as the failed Armageddon started to fade into the more distant past.  Even if it was the right thing in God’s eyes, Heaven obviously disagreed and Aziraphale didn’t even know how to start processing the knowledge that the place he’d always associated with good might be anything but.  

At least he had Crowley, the bright spot in his life, his love and his best friend.  With one last sigh, Aziraphale pushed himself to his feet and dusted off his trousers.  He still had Crowley and Crowley was upstairs in their bed. It was exactly where Aziraphale needed to be.

Crowley stood at the top of the stairs, listening to his angel beg and plead for answers the demon knew from experience weren’t coming.  How long had Crowley asked for answers, first from Heaven and then from the pits of Hell, only to be ignored by the Almighty? She might be listening but She wouldn’t answer. And it pissed Crowley off. 

He’d given up on receiving an answer to his questions millennia ago.  She didn’t care about him anymore, made that clear when She cast him out of Heaven.  But Aziraphale deserved better. His only crime was loving Her creation so much that he couldn’t let them be destroyed.  He didn’t deserve to suffer, to question his place in the universe.

Aziraphale didn’t want Crowley to know how much he was hurting.  If he did, the angel wouldn’t have waited until he went to bed to try and talk to their creator.  Aziraphale was trying to protect Crowley for some reason the demon didn’t understand yet. Maybe he blamed Crowley for his current situation.  After all, if Aziraphale didn’t love him, he would still be welcome in Heaven, still be in God’s good graces.  

Crowley blamed himself.  If only he could have stayed away from his angel, if only he had been stronger, Aziraphale wouldn’t be living in terror of falling every day.  If only God would answer him, would just tell him whether he needed to fear or not. And yet, it was Crowley who heard his prayers, heard him begging for some answer, some sign.  

He couldn’t promise Aziraphale that he was okay, couldn’t promise him that God was happy with him.  He couldn’t even promise that they would be safe. But Crowley would do everything in his power to make sure Aziraphale was happy and protected and remind him that he could live a good life without Heaven interfering all the time.  (Crowley thought the angel could live a happier life without Heaven interfering all the time but he didn’t think that opinion would be well received.)

When he heard Aziraphale stand and start to tidy up the shop before coming to bed, Crowley hurried back to the bedroom, not wanting Aziraphale to know he’d been listening. 

 “We should go away for a while, get out of London.  We don’t have anything keeping us here anymore,” Crowley said one day as he lounged on the couch watching Aziraphale work, who didn’t respond to that other than a noncommittal hum.  “You could close your shop for a few weeks and not have to worry about customers trying to get in.” Aziraphale perked up and looked over at him with a smile. Crowley knew all the ways to make his angel happy and avoiding customers was always at the top of the list.  

They’d been officially a couple for over a month after they finally confessed their feelings one drunken night.  Through that time, Aziraphale never expressed any hesitation over the two of them being together and Crowley thought he was okay with everything.  But when he suggested going away, Aziraphale’s smile was short-lived. “I don’t think that would be such a good idea. What if our sides find out?”

Crowley sighed heavily, running his hand through his hair as he tried to get his frustration under control.  It wasn’t the angel’s fault that six thousand years of conditioning had him still balking at the slightest movement towards their side.  “You go too fast for me, Crowley,” still rang in his ears even now that he got to hold and kiss and love Aziraphale whenever he wanted.  “Angel.” Aziraphale looked over at him and the hope and confusion in his eyes were like a knife to the chest. His angel wanted to believe that Heaven still cared about what he did even while wanting to keep this life they were building for themselves.  “Angel, I don’t think a few days away is going to upset anyone,” Crowley settled on, not wanting to have this argument.  

Heaven didn’t care anymore and neither did Hell.  The two of them were officially on their own, as alone as the humans who occupied this planet with them.  

“Oh, right, yes.  Quite forgot about that.”  The soft words broke Crowley’s heart and he was out of his seat in a moment, pulling Aziraphale into a tight hug.  

“They don’t deserve you, angel.  You’re better than all of them. She knows that.”  Crowley comforted himself that it wasn’t a lie. She very well could know that Aziraphale was the best of them all.  If She knew anything in the world, it had to be that. 

While Aziraphale didn’t look convinced, he melted into the embrace and let his lover comfort him.  “I hope you’re right, my dear.” He let out a soft sigh against Crowley’s neck then pulled back to offer him a smile that almost met his eyes.  “So, where did you think we should go?”

Little by little, with a small step forward then one or two back, Crowley thought Aziraphale was adjusting to his new life.  There were fewer comments about “his side”, fewer references to “we really shouldn’t do that”. Aziraphale seemed settled, happy even, and Crowley thought maybe they’d put that period behind them.  

Until he heard his angel’s prayers filtering up the stairs to the bedroom where he tried to sleep.  “I don’t understand. I’ve done everything you’ve ever asked. I’ve tried so very hard to be good and kind and righteous like an angel should be.  And yet, you ignore me. All I ask is for one sign, something that shows I still have your love, that I am worthy of it.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Crowley put his head in his hands and nearly wept from the pain he felt from his angel.  The problem with being a demon, he supposed. While Aziraphale could feel love, Crowley could feel pain. And as hard as Aziraphale tried to hide it, Crowley could still feel it coming off him in waves.  It angered Crowley, frustrated and annoyed him, that his angel, the one being in the world he loved more than any other, was suffering and the only one who could do anything to help was ignoring him like She always did.  

It wasn’t fair.  

It wasn’t right!

Crowley growled, pulling at his hair.  He wanted to give the Almighty a piece of his mind but if She wasn’t listening to the most angelic angel he’d ever met, what hope he did he have of making Her listen to him.  

“My dear?”  The question startled him from his thoughts and Crowley looked up to see Aziraphale standing in the doorway, looking at him with so much concern and love it almost made him want to weep once more.  “I thought you were asleep.”

Part of Crowley wanted to say he was, that he’d just woken if only to relieve the fear he could feel from his lover that his prayers had been overheard.  But in six thousand years, he’d never been able to lie to Aziraphale and he didn’t plan to start now. “I tried but couldn’t sleep without you here.” He looked up at Aziraphale, heartwarming at the love he saw in the angel’s eyes.  “Are you really so unhappy? I feel your misery just as sure as you feel my love.” 

Aziraphale crossed the room in a blink and knelt in front of Crowley, taking the demon’s hands in his own.  “With you and our life, my dear, never. But I hate living with the unknowing. I need to know that what we did was right in Her mind.”

“We saved the world, angel.  What could be more right than that?”

Shrugging, Aziraphale looked at their joined hands rather than Crowley’s face.  “But what if we went against Her plan? What if She truly wanted to end the world?  If that is the case, I deserve to know.”

Crowley frowned, not sure where Aziraphale was going with this.  “What would it change?”

“If that's what She really wanted, then I would rather fall than serve Heaven any longer.”

Horror flashed through Crowley and he slapped a hand over Aziraphale’s mouth the moment the words were out.  His wings manifested unconsciously and wrapped around them both. “Don’t say that, angel. Please, don’t ever say that.  I wouldn’t wish this on you. I’d rather fall a hundred more times then see you fall even once.”

Aziraphale pulled Crowley close and held him tight, pressing his face against the demon’s neck.  “If Heaven truly wanted to end the world, with all the people here and the animals and everything else, then they aren’t the good guys.  And if God was in favor of it, then Her plan isn’t one I want to follow.”  

Crowley trembled in Aziraphale’s arms, watching the angel's wings appear and wrap around them, nestling them in a cocoon of feathers.  His eyes remained trained on them, waiting for them to darken or burst into flame but nothing happen and Crowley breathed a sigh of relief.  “Angel.”

“Crowley, dearest, I know you are worried but truly, there is no need.  I love you, my darling. But this is my fight and if that is how it ends, so be it.”  Crowley opened his mouth to argue but Aziraphale silenced him with a quick kiss. “But the Heaven I want to serve, the God I want to serve is one of love.  And there is no love in destruction.  Call it what you want but I’ve been around humans long enough to know that love which causes pain is no love at all.  What I have here with you? That’s real...” Aziraphale’s words trailed off as he furrowed his brow and looked at Crowley with such concern that he worried the angel had changed his mind about their love being real.  “Oh. Oh. I’ve been so stupid. I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

The relief on his face reminded Crowley of a day so long ago when he stood on a wall and reassured an angel that he couldn’t do the wrong thing.  Aziraphale’s grasp of sarcasm hadn’t improved and the love Crowley felt at that expression had only grown. He couldn’t imagine what kind of conclusion Aziraphale had come to but his angel had never been very good at holding back when he was truly excited about something.  

“Don’t you see, Crowley?  Don’t you see?”

Crowley shook his head, “See what, angel?”

“It’s you!”  That cleared up exactly nothing and Crowley frowned, wondering what Aziraphale was talking about.  “I’ve been pleading with Her for my sign that she approves of what we did and my sign has been here all along.  Crowley, you are my sign. I asked Her to show me that I still have Her love.”

Scoffing at that, Crowley tried to step back, only to be stopped by Aziraphale’s arms and wings.  “I’m not Her, angel. And if you think I am, we have bigger problems than I imagined.”

“My darling, my dearest, my love, you have had my heart for so long.  And I didn’t fall. We stopped Armageddon, and we chose each other, in every sense of the term.  And I didn’t fall. I’m not going to fall, darling. She gave us to each other. She probably knew all along that we would stop Armageddon.  You are my Heaven and my reward. I don’t need all of them because I have you.”

A series of complicated emotions flitted across Crowley’s face before settling into his normal sneer.  “So She set all of this up just so that we would stop Armageddon and our reward is getting to love each other?”  He didn’t know why he was arguing this point because he had everything he ever wanted right here in his arms and didn’t want to upset Aziraphale by arguing but Crowley always did ask too many questions.  “That’s hardly ineffable, angel.”

“It was ineffable up until a moment ago.”  Aziraphale’s smug little smile was too much for Crowley to resist, so he kissed his angel rather than argue the point.  

When they finally broke apart for an unnecessary breath, he asked, “So, no more midnight prayers?”

“Oh no, those will continue.  But they’ll be prayers of thanksgiving, not pleading.”  With a mischievous look, Aziraphale pushed Crowley back on the bed.  “But tonight, I’m thinking a different kind of worship is in order.” 

Catching on quickly, Crowley pulled Aziraphale down with him.  “I might get you to call out to Her one more time if I do it right.”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes.  “Please stop talking, my dear.”  He miracled away their clothes and Crowley choked a little at the sudden feeling of skin on skin.  

“Right, yes, not talking is good,” he muttered and pulled his lover in for a kiss, all thoughts of prayers, apocalypses, and everything else vanished, replaced with nothing but love for the angel in his arms.  

Crowley knew neither of them may ever see Heaven again, but that was alright considering they had created a paradise right there, just for them, in a bookshop in Soho.  Whether it was a gift from the Almighty or something of their own creation didn’t matter, because whatever the reason, it was better than anything Upstairs could offer.