They didn't speak about that incident anymore. Fortunately, Aziraphale had never been vindictive. Nevertheless, Crowley had learnt his lesson.
Whenever, his thoughts wandered off to these dark places he withdrew under a plausible pretext. Every time he returned home; he had come to a different solution about the question if he'd ever be able to forget the past.
Sometimes he let himself be tempted to human naivety, then he actually believed the kitschy saying: "Time heals all wounds.". Ironically since a mortal life only felt like the blink of an eye for him. So how should they heal their wounds with time if their time was limited so rapidly? Perhaps, they simply didn't experience so much pain as an immortal? Or the time of healing was proportional to the lifespan? So, it took him millennia to overcome a tragedy, while people only needed decades? He didn't know.
On other days he was convinced, that this would haunt him forever.
However, most of the time he returned home without having any solution, just longing to be close to his partner again. The best remedy for him.
Today was one of these days.
He threw the keys of his beloved Bentley, which sincerely had played "Bohemian Rhapsody" the entire ride home, what a macabre humor his black beauty had, into the bowl beside the door. "Angel, I am home." He called out for his boyfriend, awaiting to be greeted in the usual way with a kiss to the cheek and tons of questions about his trip.
"We are in the living room my dear." Aziraphale's happy voice echoed through the hallway. We? The demon thought surprised but assumed one of his partner's many acquaintances had paid them a visit. Even though he wasn't in the mood for small talk he knew his lover wanted him to join them. "Who gives us the honor?" he asked, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "Oh, one of your old friends. Come here and greet him my dear. He said his name was Samael." His boyfriend replied in a carefree manner.
All of sudden the blood froze in Crowley's veins. His heart missed a beat. Immediately his eyes widened in shock. He nearly had gasped for air, his throat tightened. A heatwave, like thousand hot nails digging into his spine washed through him. The blood rushed from his head, into his legs, just like his heart sank. "My dear? Where are you? I am sure your hair looks fine, we are waiting." Aziraphale tried to cover up his impoliteness, sounding slightly nervous.
Aziraphale… was in there… with him… was the next thought that shoot through Crowley's head. Finally, his paralysis vanished, emerging into pure panic. He rushed to the living room, he had to see this with his own eyes. Also make sure his angel was alright… To his surprise he couldn't sense their guest's aura. Another reason to worry.
In seconds, which felt like years, he stumbled into the living room. He nearly tripped over the doorframe, but managed to hold onto it, trying to cover up his panic. Unfortunately, he was out of breath, sweaty and as pale as a shroud. "Crowley my dear, what's wrong? Are you alright?" his boyfriend asked quite worried, getting up from his chair to support him. "Y…Yeah." He stuttered out, forcing himself to smile.
Once again, he was grateful for his sunglasses, they hid the fact, that he was starring at their visitor in pure horror. He sat on the couch. How could he dare to sit here? Having tea with an Archangel! His Aziraphale! This situation couldn't have been more surreal. However, this was the harsh reality.
"Crawley! Oh, pardon me, Crowley, it's been such a long time!" their guest greeted him, with a wide, prominent smile. The voice rang in his ears, awaking all those memories. Those terrible, yet so melancholic pictures in his mind arose.
His words were captured in his throat, he was tongue tied. A very rare occurrence. "Sit down! We have so much to talk about! I heard you stopped the Armageddon?" his "friend" invited him, petting on the spot on the couch beside him. Crowley's movements were spiky, almost remote controlled. Nevertheless, he sat down beside him quickly. Finally, he managed to put on a smile, so his boyfriend wouldn't get distrustful. Or even worse worried. "Y…Yes we dealt with the apocalypse. Not a big deal." He confirmed the story, even though he tried to sound laid-back, there was an undertone of insecurity.
"Not a big deal? You saved the world, turned against your sides, and even managed to get out of your trial! That's incredible!" Samael contradicted his eyes sparkled with excitement. His voice had sounded fascinated however Crowley could read in those amber, cat-like eyes, that this man was secretly mocking him. Just like his appearance, he seemed to be perfect, naturally demanding respect from the people around him. "Well, we had a bit help by a witch, the kids from the block, a nerd, the usual cliché, you know?" he replied, trying to play it off.
Samael's laughter was deep, contagious and came straight out of his stomach, causing Aziraphale to join him. Only Crowley sat there in silence, wishing his alarm clock would rip him out of this nightmare at any second. "Oh, you and your cynicism." The other demon chuckled, patting his shoulder. On the outside just a friendly gesture, but Crowley could feel his hand directly hitting the spots were his wings were hidden. A warning. An assert of dominance. It caused him goosebumps. Another wave of cold sweat crashed down over his head. This situation needed to change.
"Aziraphale, my angel, could you get me a cup off coffee?" he asked his boyfriend, for having a minute alone with the other man. "Of course, my dear." His lover agreed immediately, finally convinced that his boyfriend wouldn't sneak out of the situation anymore. Quickly he got up, flashing them a soft smile "Anything else I can bring you? Another cup?" he asked, holding his hand out for Samael's nearly empty mug. "Yes please. No sugar. No milk." The raven-haired man agreed, with a prominent smile upon his lips. "Alright. Give me a moment." The blonde begged, while leaving the room. Finally, they were alone.
The nervous tension inside of Crowley's body, gave him the feeling of bursting into pieces at any second. A little touch probably would have been enough to make him shatter. However, his serpent instincts out weighted that irrational fear, causing him to shoot forward like a snake. He pinned the uninvited guest to the couch, nails digging into the black fabric of his shirt-collar. "Why are you here in my houssse?!" he hissed angrily into his face, as if his words were poisonous. "Tse, Tse is that a way to greet your oldest friend?" Samael scolded him with a cocky grin upon his face. He didn't feel threatened at all. "We are not friendsss." Crowley spat back, pushing him harder against the couch. "Why? Because of that thing a few millennials ago? You're so vindictive." The demon asked, minimizing the damage he had actually done to their lives.
"You're not the one to talk about vindictiveness." The viper scoffed, still not letting him go. "So, answer the question or is that just a macabre joke of hell?" he growled, he couldn't stand handsome face. Those perfectly plugged eyebrows, raised in a skeptical frown, while is amber eyes were laughing at him, underlined by those full lips that grimaced an arrogant smile, framed by prominent cheek bones and curly black hair. "Am I not allowed to visit my longest friend?" his counterpart asked in an exaggerated sulking tone, which brought him further to the white-hot heat. "We. Are. Not. Friends." Crowley repeated, pronouncing every word exaggeratedly disgusted. "Is that so?" Samael asked with a dangerous undertone, raising an eyebrow in disapproval. "Yes. No doubt there." The ginger insisted, not scared off him. Not anymore.
"Then maybe I should change my behavior a bit." Samael decided. Suddenly the tide turned. Crowley was the one being pinned against the couch in seconds. A surprised gasp left his lips, followed by curse. His fingernails dug into the other one's hands, which were wrapped around his throat. Fortunately, he didn't have to breath. Nevertheless, he struggled against his hold, like a bug under a shoe. His knuckles already turned white by the force he rammed his nails into the other's flesh. "s…Stop it." He gasped out hoarsely. "Why? We aren't friend and you attacked me first" the demon hissed back, lashing him with his own words. Sadism glowed in his eyes, like freshly lit purgatory. "Lu-Lucifer! S…stop!" Crowley demanded, using the intruder's real name in order to emphasize his words. The man's face lit up, when he heard his name. "You're either extremely careless or brave, calling me by my real name even though your clueless little angel is next door. Just like in the old days, isn't it?" he mocked him, finally his grip loosened around his throat.
Yes… Just like in the old days. Crowley felt the lump in his throat thickening, even though he didn't get choked anymore. Still held in that humiliating position, but at least able to reply, he pressed out. "Both. Stop messing around. What do you want?" he asked once again, this time a lot more submissive than before. By now, his rage had died down, instead had turned into pure fear and anxiety. "That's better, but not what I wanted to hear." Lucifer purred back gloating, and also commanding. Crowley felt his resistance give in, like a match broken between two fingers. Immediately his usual self-confidence shrunk. Almost automatically he fell back into old patterns of behavior. Once learned you can never unlearn it. "What brings you here Sir?" the words slipped over his lips like shards of glass, leaving a bitter taste behind.
"That's what I wanted to hear. Good boy." His former boss praised him, letting him get up as a reward. As if nothing had ever happened, he leant back against the cold, black leather sofa. He watched the other one caressing over his hurting neck with pure enjoyment. "I will grant you the satisfaction of receiving an answer." He purred, sounded like a saint, while actually speaking with the tongue of the devil himself. "I am here Crowley, because we need your help." He revealed to him; a scary glow hidden behind his orange orbs. "Me? No. No. No. Not this bullshit again. CrOwLeY wE NeEd YoU. CrOwLeY fAlLiNg iSn'T tHaT bAd. We CaN wIn ThIs." He quoted the past, mimicking his former comrade in a very sarcastic way. Even his face was screwed in pure disgust. "Forget it. I have left hell and heaven behind." He denied his beg with a throw-away movement.
"What a pity, we thought we could count on our longtime friend." Lucifer sounded upset, using the term friend on purpose, for ripping open old wounds. Soon he'd change his mind. "Well, it's not like it's a complete surprise. I mean you've already been bitching when we first tried to take over heaven and the world. So why should you simply cooperate now?" he added in a rather bored tone. All this drama always had to repeat itself. "Shut it! Don't you know how easily these words could seal our fate?" Crowley hissed, looking around cautiously. "HA! Since when is the great Crawley so scared of the divine power?" Lucifer mocked him, clearly amused. "Oh, I know why… Because you're not worried about your own well-being." He assumed, actually hitting the bull's eye with that guess. However, the ginger could never show that to him. Unfortunately, Lucifer had never needed a proof for his words. "You're worried about your Archangel. Oh Crowley, Crowley, Crawley… You're always repeating your mistakes, aren't you?" he scolded him like a little boy, while crossing his legs.
Crowley set there as if a lighting had stroke him. Busted. His throat grew even more dry, while he tried to find a proper excuse for his behavior. Deep down he knew there wasn't one. He was the mouse this time, being tortured by the sadistic cat's games. "I will not help you." He repeated even stricter than before. "So, you're willing to risk your angel's life this time?" Lucifer answered slightly surprised. "Leave. Him. Alone. He has nothing to do with us, our past or future. Leave us alone." His old friend demanded, the shivering of his voice and the cold sweat on his skin clarified that he was actually shaking in fear on the inside. "You have been part of our past and you will be part of our future." Lucifer contradicted firmly, his eyes shooting him a threatening glare. "And if you don't want your angel to go down in flames, I would cooperate if I was you." He threatened openly now.
"You wouldn't dare!" the redhead hissed angrily. "You can neither kill me with holy water nor him with purgatory. We proved that in our trials." He tried to full the devil in front of him. "Pah. Changing bodies. Cheapest trick in the world. Be glad the leadership of heaven and hell are that dumb." Lucifer crashed his fraud with a few words. "You will need something better than that to make me leave you alone. Come on, I know you can do better. You're a demon after all." He encouraged him, even though any other contradiction would have pointless. By now he already had him with his back against the wall.
A long sigh left Crowley's lips. A sign of defeat. That bastard. He crossed his hands in front of his belly, for preventing them from shivering. On the outside he looked calm, but if Lucifer could have seen his eyes, he'd have spotted immense terror immediately. "What do you want this time? I can't bring you the flaming sword, we don't have it." He asked annoyed, actually only covering up his anxiety. "I know. I know. We want something rather simple from you. Start your job again. But this time work for real. If our plans should be a success, we need to corrupt humanity even more." He announced, causing Crowley to wince slightly. "For real? Can't you do that yourself? I mean you're Satan, this should be so easy for you. Where's your aura by the way?" he asked him, kind of curious. "I have taken this human form, so your little pet-bird won't notice anything. It suppresses my aura. Also, no I can't corrupt mankind myself. God would get distrustful right away." Lucifer denied his beg.
"And what is the sense of all of this?" Crowley asked, silently praying to the seven princes of hell, that they weren't the same motives as the first time. "The same as in the past. Omega has never ended." His former boss confirmed his biggest fear. "And what do you think you will get out of thisss?" Crowley hissed at him annoyed. "Our great triumph. Our victory over God and her terror regime." The devil announced heroically. "So, are you in or will both of your heads roll like the dices over Eden's fate?" he added in a tone, that clearly ruled out a "no" as answer. "I… I am in." the other one pressed out behind gritted teeth. "Perfect. Then pick up your job again. You've had a way too long vacation." Lucifer ordered, patting his shoulders once again, nearly causing the froze in fear and disbelief Crowley to fall from the couch. "So, my work is done here. I will call if I need anything else." He informed him, while getting up. "Also, by the way you've grown careless. You should have noticed by now that I stopped time once that retarded pigeon had left the room. What a dangerous detail to oversee. See you soon Crawley." His words lashed him like whip one more time before he disappeared.
The smell of Sulphur hung in the air and there was a burning mark on the wooden floor, where Crowley's biggest nightmare just had disappeared. Finally, the huge, wooden clock behind him began to tick again. Just like the demon in front of it. With an emotionless, kind of lost expression he sat there, starring at the floor. This had to be a nightmare. How could this all restart? He thought, while trying not to vomit. His entire biological system was crashing due to the overstimulation of his emotions. He couldn't do that… he couldn't….
"Oh, did our guest already leave? What about his coffee?" Aziraphale's surprised voice, ripped him out of his thoughts. He had too… he had to do it for his boyfriend. "He got a call. Hell is busy place." He replied after a few seconds of awkward silence. "Did he at least tell you why he visited? It's kind of impolite to just appear in someone's living room." The angel moralized, still sounding a bit upset about that impoliteness.
Damn. What should he tell him? Crowley's mind was racing. He reached out for his cup, to try to buy himself some time. Unfortunately, his hand was shivering. "Nothing… Just checking up. He's a demon, you know we never bother with doors." He lied to him, not bearing to look him straight into the eyes while doing so. "Yes, that's so impolite." Aziraphale complained, while sitting down beside him on the couch. "Are you alright my dear? You've been acting a bit strange since you've come home." He asked worriedly, reaching out to take his hand in his. Crowley felt terrible. He didn't deserve his care, his sweetness. As casually as possible he freed his hand "Yes. I am fine. Just tired." He lied once again, feeling his guts cringe, as if a blade had stabbed him. "Oh, alright. Maybe you should try to rest then my dear?" the blonde advised him with a soft smile. "Yes! Yes! That's a brilliant idea!" the demon agreed, that would give him enough time to plan his further actions.
"Want me to join you? For cuddles?" Aziraphale offered, causing him to freeze in the doorway once more. His heart bleed with ever of his words "No. It's fine." He denied his offer; he usually never did. Afterwards he disappeared into the bedroom, before the weight of his guilt would make him crash down…
This had to be a nightmare… all of this…