Aziraphale awoke to the sound of a door closing. Light filtering through his eyelids as he let himself adjust to wakefulness. His head had cleared somewhat but he still felt the slight throb from the night before, he couldn't seem to remember what had happened, oh dear, he thought to himself, he and Crowley must have drank way too much last night.

The angel tried miracaling away the hangover but let out a confused noise when he realised he couldn't.

He then tried swinging into an upright position on the bed but a sharp pang of panic stabbed through his stomach when he realised he couldn't, one arm catching something, a pinching feeling at his wrist.

It was only when he opened his eyes and saw this was not Crowley's apartment when he really started to freak out. Breath coming in short bursts, body quivering.

Zira looked down and saw his feet shackled, something with nasty markings like some sort of incantation on it circling his ankles. That must be what was stopping him from accessing his angelic power. He reached forward frantically, gasping as his left wrist pulled against a handcuff attached to the bed he was lying on, fiddling with the metal on his ankles with his right hand.

Aziraphale whimpered as a sharp pain in his chest shocked him into stillness, the throbbing in his head increasing and dark flashes of the night before torturing him. The angel remembered Crowley fighting someone, being held roughly and a terrible terrible pain as his rib snapped, he remembered hitting his head, Crowley's concerned tone, and his lover shouting angrily at the demon holding him- demon! Yes demon! He had been taken by demons!

Aziraphale looked around. It was a sparsely decorated apartment room with a small balcony and a writing desk. Nothing demonic inside, just a normal room, the sheets were ruffled, and he felt as if someone had not long left the other side of the bed. He was struggling to sense anything out of the ordinary, but then the ghost of a smell, something foul and bitter entered his nostrils. The the entirety of the night before flooded back.

Aziraphale gripped at his left wrist, hands scrabbling desperately, and blood welling as the cuff restraining him did not release but sank deep into his flesh. He keened as blood thick and wet dripped down his ivory skin, this shouldn't have happened, he was an angel, this must be something to do with the shackles...

Aziraphale stopped when he heard noises coming from the other side of the door, slowly releasing the tension and realising too late his captor had heard his pained noises.

The door swung open and in walked the demon from last night, hips swinging as he swaggered across the room, pulling the chair out from the desk and sitting on it the wrong way round, resting his chin on his folded arms.

"How's my beautiful angel?" Smirked the demon. Eyes dancing. His mouth quirked downwards then, glancing at the wound, eyebrows lowering In mock concern.

"Oh angel- that's Crowley's little nickname for you is it not? You needn't struggle so, I'm not going to hurt you" his words promised kindness, but the tone told Zira the truth, like an inaudible smirk, he was lying. Aziraphale had no doubt this being delighted in seeing him in pain. One look into the steady amber cat eyes and he shuddered.

"Where is Crowley?" Questioned Aziraphale. "And what have you done to him?!" He demanded.

"Hahaha" cackled the demon, throwing his head back, shoulders shaking. The demon wiped away a tear.

" wouldn't you like to know sweet cheeks" he said, voice cutting more than any blade could. Aziraphale couldn't help it, this made him angry, he was not some weak naive rooky angel, he disliked being talked to like he was a baby, or worse an object. He remembered the hand on his bottom, anxiety biting at him as he worried what this demon had planned for him. Aziraphale had never been one to listen though, the most reckless of all Gods angels and least likely to follow the rules. He couldn't help it, he retorted.

"I am not some simpleton demon, tell me where my friend is, or you will regret this" surprisingly nothing happened, the demon regarded him calmly.

"You're fooling no one angel, you and Crowley are more than friends" he smiled knowingly.

"And what business is that of yours?" Questioned the angel, a little too quickly.

It only took one second for the demons face to switch, not that Aziraphale knew right away what this meant, the atmosphere changed, the light in the room dimmed. The demons eyes lowering, darkening.

"No" said the demon with the tone of someone finding out a really crazy secret they didn't quite believe. Leaning black in the chair and looking for the first time a little shocked.

He started to laugh, head thrown back so much the top of his mouth was visible, he had two rows of razor looking sharp teeth. At the end he wiped thrumming jittery hands over his face, he looked positively sick with excitement.

"Don't tell me Crowley has been in love with an angel for 6000 years and never fucked it? I mean I never would have thought…"

Said the demon, almost to himself, eyes black with lust.

The demon licked his lips, and stood, throwing the chair to one side carelessly. Aziraphale froze with fear, heart stilled, he couldn't breathe, he was having a panic attack.

A second passed and lips spread open mouthed kisses across his collarbone and neck, the corner of his mouth, he choked as sharp needle teeth sank deeply into his shoulder. A hand was undoing his belt, and a thigh was wedged firmly between his legs. Without further ado Aziraphale passed out.

x

x

x

Crowley stumbled across the london streets, his wilting wings dragging behind him bloody and torn, and his right leg occasionally giving way, wings jerking out to catch his fall. The demons breath came in ragged starts and his sunglasses were shattered, the framework still perched on the end of his nose. He was being followed, he had caught a glimpse of a stranger dressed in white a while back, he hoped the angel following him would show mercy. On top of all this being discorporated was the last thing he needed.

He fiddled with the keys to his bentley, cursing when they slipped through blood slick fingers and clattered to the floor. He scrabbled at them, finally managing to painfully retract his shattered wings with a groan and slump into the driver's seat.

He sighed as he locked the door, the streets seeming to be empty, no sign of the angel anywhere.

Crowley had the shock of his life when he adjusted his front mirror to find a flash of white showing."Where are we off then Hun?" Said the angel in the back seat. He immediately tried to exit the bentley, but felt angelic power overpowering his and locking all the doors.

"Miss please I've not done anything! I swear! I was just-"

The angel laughed, a melodic calm sound.

"Sweetheart I'm not here to smite you, I want to help" Crowley could only gape at the dark haired angel sat primly in the back seat.

"Did… he send you?"

Asked Crowley in disbelief.

"You could say that" said the angel in the back seat.

Crowley had just managed to stop hyperventilating.

"And what are your orders?"

The angel laughed.

"Assist the Demon Crowley in rescuing the angel Aziraphale"

Crowley's eyebrows raised into his hairline. Yep, because an angel helping a demon was so so normal! He put his jittery hands on the steering wheel and turned on the ignition.

"As if this is the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me" he muttered.

"And I was at Woodstock!"

x

x

x

When they arrived at Crowley's flat he collapsed on the couch, surprised when the angel immediately perched on it behind him.

"Wings out Hun" said the angel.

Crowley leaned away from the angel repulsed.

"Look" said Crowley, eyeing the steady brown gaze "I don't know who you think you are but I don't let just any angel touch my wings!"

The angel smirked, actually smirked!

" is Aziraphale the only angel you ever let near them?" Grinned the angel, eyes shining with mirth.

If demons could blush Crowley would be blushing.

He began to say something, but no words came, he couldn't even begin to explain, and he realised he didn't really want to.

"Its none of your business miss, oh can I get a blessed name! I'm sick of calling you miss!"

The angel sniggered in a decidedly un angelic way and smiled. "I am vera" she said.

It was now Crowley's turn to smirk.

"What kind of an angel name is that!?" Grinned Crowley. "That's a human name, I call bullshit!"

The angels smile became tight.

"I will tell you my real name when I trust you" said Vera.

Crowley couldn't believe this.

"Trust me!" Said Crowley in disbelief. "You're the one who barged into my flat and demanded to touch my wings! -You, you pervert!" He added.

( Crowley was tempted to ask how much worse her angel name was but decided to leave it at calling her a pervert)

The angel didn't seem phased by the insult, simply cracking her knuckles and stretching her hands out infront of her.

"Oh don't be silly" tutted Vera.

"I can't heal them if they're put away can I?"

Wait she was going to heal him? This day was getting stranger and stranger, first Aziraphale was captured by his creepy nemesis Orlo, second of all he managed to walk away from a fight with not one but two lower demons, third of all he had let an angel that was decidedly not Aziraphale enter his flat, and fourthly the angel instead of smiting him was going to heal his wings! Could this day get any weirder?

Despite it all he didn't have the energy to fight anymore, his love was gone, and he was too injured to be of any use in a rescue.

Crowley reached into the plane and felt his bleeding broken wings twinge. Angels didn't lie, he grudgingly decided he had little choice but to trust her.

He let out a broken cry as his wings emerged from the ethereal plane hanging limply before Vera. Cool hands began to spread healing power through him. He was unused to this power however, Aziraphale was the only angel who had ever healed him, this power burned, he gritted his teeth through the pain, he would find Zira, and Orlo would wish he had never laid a finger on him.

x

x

x

The car ride was long, They had tracked Orlo to a flat on the outskirts of town. Crowley wanted to tear free, let his wings burst open and fly off immediately but his newly healed wings could not yet support his weight. That left him in his car with this insufferable angel Vera.

She shared Aziraphale's annoying obsession with queen, and due to him being quite lacking in the power department he couldn't fight her when she played it on repeat using the cars radio.

If Crowley was honest with himself, which was a rare occurrence, it wasn't the music that was the problem, it was the memories linked to it. He remembered many happy times-usually involving Aziraphale sat next to him with a bag of books resting on his knees, and some debate over whether some tortured musician would end up in heaven or hell.

Crowley loved these debates, but every now and then he would hide a smile at the smug look on his angels face. Aziraphale's faith in mankind was not limitless, but was still huge. 6000 years and he hadn't changed a bit. He had so much faith in tortured druggie musicians he wouldn't believe they would end up in hell.

He remembered ice creams, sat in the plush seats listening to Aziraphale talk for hours about a new book that had just came out, not really listening but watching the way the light made a blonde halo around his friends head.

He remembered Aziraphale sleeping in the back seat after way too much wine and having to carry him up to bed, his sleeping face oh so angelic, his pink lips oh so kissable.

He remembered bringing home the cuttings which were now huge plants in his flat and having to scold Aziraphale for speaking too kindly to them.

A lot had happened in this car, a lot of memories.

Somewhere along the way they had stopped in traffic, and he realised the music had stopped with it. Crowley turned absentmindedly towards the angel, feeling her gaze burning white hot through was staring at him with a look of shock on her face.

"What is it?" He asked, trying to sound annoyed but sounding hollow.

"Crowley-you're! You're!"

She said in disbelief, pointing at his face frantically.

"I'm what?" He barked, getting agitated now.

"Crowley you're crying!" Vera whispered.

Crowley reached up dazedly, touching his face, indeed his fingers came away with salty tears.

He found himself taking a few seconds to digest that he Crowley- the tempter, a fallen angel, the reason why humanity were banned from Eden, a demon, was crying.

He looked up again and noticed Vera staring, fully gawking with her mouth wide open. Crowley rolled his eyes and wiped the tears away roughly with the sleeve of his coat.

" close your mouth or you'll catch flies" Crowley snapped.

"I'm sorry" said Vera sadly.

"It's just-"

"It's just what?" Said Crowley, hunching over the driving wheel.

"I've never seen a demon cry before.

Crowley gritted his teeth.

"There's a first time for everything"