HOY THERE! ANGST AHEAD!
Thank you Azeran and Intergalacticsupertwink for beta-ing and Brit-picking!
"Hullo, Aziraphale..."
The first feeling that shoots through the angel is surprise, and then delight, as it usually does when Crowley makes an appearance. In fact, Aziraphale's mouth opens into a wide smile just as the rest of his corporation spins around only to gasp at the sight before him.
Surprise and delight quickly turn to shock and concern though. Crowley looks haggard. He's always been thin and lanky, but this is beyond that. Surely any human would be in a hospital in a state as his. His tight clothing actually hangs loosely.
Aziraphale looks the demon over, his mind going a million kilometres a second. Crowley's hair is a bit longer and unkempt. He doesn't necessarily have a beard, but Aziraphale can't call it anything else.
The look of guilt on the demon's face is apparent, even with his shades on. Crowley is trying for a smug grin, but Aziraphale sees it for what it is, fear.
Which suddenly reminds the angel of the demon's transgressions and all of the hurt he has caused, which then morphs his concern and shock into Holy fury.
"Yeah, that was more the look I was expecting," Crowley mumbles.
"You..." Aziraphale grouses with his eyes closed hard, and nostrils flared.
"Yes."
"...cad..."
"Yes."
"...dastardly devil of the worst degree..."
"Wow."
"Do you have any idea..."
"I'm certain I don't."
"... what your cowardly escape nearly cost us? Angelique was nearly destroyed. And I'm not referring to her broken heart, which by the way, brava on that account, Hell would be proud of you," Aziraphale seethes. "I mean, destroyed. As in, cease to exist altogether." His voice breaks because just thinking about a universe without her is too much to bear. "You–," Aziraphale cuts himself off when he catches Crowley's bottom lip quiver.
The angel takes a calming breath and then looks around. The woman from the shop practically has her face squashed up on the windowpane, staring at them while eating chips.
With a long and exhausted sigh, Aziraphale motions for Crowley to follow him to a more secluded area behind a large set of trees.
"So," Aziraphale says finally, "you got my messages."
Crowley clears his throat and scuffs the ground with his shoe. "Yeah."
"I was worried you wouldn't understand me, talking in code and whatnot."
Crowley manages an amused scoff. "Regular MI-six agent, you." He looks up at Aziraphale and immediately the smirk is gone. "Would it matter if I said I was sorry?" He says hoarsely.
"Yes, I believe it would. A great deal actually."
"I'm sorry, Aziraphale–"
"Oh, no-no. As you once said so valiantly, I don't need your apology."
Crowley goes pale, and he shakes his head. "I just came to check that everything's alright." He nods at Aziraphale's hands. "Which I'm guessing it is."
Aziraphale looks down and immediately feels heat surge up his neck to the top of his head. Brilliant. The flowers and champagne vanish. "You're not leaving again," he says sternly while staring at Crowley's chest because now he can't bear to look him in the face.
"I came to tell you that her family is safe."
At that, Aziraphale snaps his eyes to Crowley's.
The demon still looks shamefaced as he sways in place. "As soon as I heard your message, I located her parents and took them to one of my flats in Paris. It's under another name so whoever the bastard is won't find them. I've made sure of it."
Aziraphale nods as relief lightens his chest. "And the rest of her family? There was an uncle."
"All safe. I had Anathema ward everything and do her witchy things. Even I couldn't locate their auras, standing in the next room and everything."
"Oh, good," Aziraphale breathes, "Angelique's been so worried."
"I almost caught the fucker."
"What?!" Aziraphale takes a step forward only for Crowley to take a step back.
"Yeah, but he escaped."
Aziraphale's heart constricts at the sight of Crowley recoiling from him, but he ignores it. "He. Angel or demon?"
"An angel, I'm almost positive. Didn't get a good look, but he got a bit sloppy." Crowley drags a hand through his hair.
"Any discerning features whatsoever? Any clues?"
The demon sighs and rubs the back of his neck. "His corporation was about my height, but he was broader. He was wearing a dark hooded cloak, but I saw a flash of white when he flew off. Had to be his wings. I'll find him," Crowley finishes gravely.
"Not without help."
"Anathema is helping–"
"The assailant is an angel, Crowley. Anathema can't do much, and going against him alone is too dangerous."
Crowley throws up his hands. "Then what am I supposed to do? Just fuck off and do nothing?"
"Well, that was your plan to begin with, wasn't it?" Aziraphale spits out.
Crowley stands a bit straighter. "I didn't know then, did I?!"
Aziraphale shakes his head in disappointment. "You think that excuses your absence? Your abandonment? You're coming back to the cottage with me, and you are going to apologise to Angelique–"
"Angel–"
"Don't you, 'angel' me, Anthony J. Crowley!" He warns. "You are going to give her the news about her parents yourself."
Crowley turns away and shoves his hands into his pockets. "I'll just be in your way, won't I?" The demon murmurs in response.
His words don't sound resentful or jealous. Crowley just seems sad and lonely, utterly pathetic, and Aziraphale wants to reach out and hold him like that day in the hospital. He aches to comfort his friend, his love. But Crowley doesn't respond well to affection or kind words when he feels like he doesn't deserve it. So, Aziraphale decides on tough love and to use his wicked tongue once again to get what he wants. And what the angel wants is for Crowley to stay, to make peace with Angelique, to be happy with her if need be as much as it would hurt to stand aside.
Aziraphale clings to the bastard within and licks his lips before he speaks. "I knew it. I've always known, but now you've proven it yourself. Heaven was right about one thing at least," he utters quietly but with disdain.
Crowley turns to face him, surprise and confusion written all over his face. "Know what? Right about what?"
The angel's spirit is fit to shatter, but he steels himself and turns his heart to ice. "That demons are incapable of love."
Crowley's mouth drops open, and he staggers back with a hand to his chest like he's been shot. "What," he breathes softly. "How," he sobs, and his quivering lip makes it hard for him to speak, "how-how, could you say that? After," his other arm wraps around his middle, and he takes a steadying breath, "after everything. You know. You have to know. You said angels could sense–"
"You left her without so much as a by your leave."
"Because I thought–!"
"And you left me," that comes out more broken than Aziraphale had intended and he can't stop the tears falling down his cheeks. "I've never felt an ounce, not a smidgen of love from you."
Crowley sways and has to catch himself from falling by leaning on the tree behind him. "I don't understand. All this time..."
"Do you love her?" Do you love me? He wants to say. "She says you never told her you loved her. Did you ever love her?"
Crowley's chest heaves as gasps for breath that he doesn't need. He nods and forces out his words. "Yes. Yes. I loved-love her. It wasn't supposed to happen, but it did."
Aziraphale has to turn away because although Aziraphale knows that Crowley loves him, or at least loved him once, knowing Crowley loves another hurts. But how can he be jealous? How can he throw the first stone when he, himself, has fallen in love with the same woman. "If you love someone, you don't abandon them. If you love someone, you stay with them. Or at least-at least say a proper goodbye, a proper reason why. You say you still love her? Then prove it. If you want anything to do with me," he echoes Crowley's words before, "you'll at least say your sorry to her in person before you go."
The angel can hear Crowley snivelling and trying to take long steadying breaths. "All right. Lead the way."
Aziraphale doesn't turn to look at him, and he just starts to walk in the direction of the cottage. It occurs to him that his plans for the evening will not come to pass, and may never. In fact, Crowley's presence could end everything between him and Angelique. But this is the right thing to do. The angel knows it, feels it. Whatever happens... well, he'll cross that bridge later.
