"You have...1...saved message."
"Crowley, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said any of that about you. It's not true at all. I'm sorry I took my anger out on you, you didn't deserve that. Even if I was upset, it still wasn't right of me to say all those horrible things.
I'm sorry I didn't call you sooner. After you left, I thought it better to rest, let myself calm down before I tried to speak to you. It...took a few days. I wanted to be levelheaded.
Please call me back. I know I don't deserve to talk to you after what I said, and if you never want to talk to me again I understand. Take all the time you need. I'm sorry. I hope you don't hate me, but if you do...you're probably right."
Crowley sighed, setting down his phone and staring into the open sky above him. He'd been in Santa Monica for a week now, sitting on the beach, drinking martinis, and trying not to feel things. The last bit was a struggle, especially since he kept listening to the voicemail Aziraphale had left him.
Was drinking so much he felt numb a good coping mechanism? Most certainly not. But drinks here were cheap, tasty, and strong. And it wasn't like it could kill him. And he could be here, alone, without anyone from Soho knowing it.
He knew Aziraphale had been wrong. But as he sat, burning in the sand, he asked himself: "why DIDN'T you tell him what Gabriel said sooner?"
The answer was obviously "because I didn't want to hurt him, because I didn't think he needed to know."
"So why did you tell him that night?"
"I was tired and tipsy, and it fit with his point about all those bastard angels. I thought it was a good idea at the time."
"What are you going to do now?"
That question, he couldn't answer.
His phone rang. It had done so a few times since he'd gotten here, but whoever was calling hung up before Crowley could get to the phone. This time, though, he managed to pick up.
"Hullo?"
"Oh! God! Crowley! I wasn't expecting you to pick up."
"Good afternoon t'you too, Aziraaaaphale."
"Afternoon? Crowley, it's nearly midnight! Where are you?"
"Saaaandy beachesssssss. Open sssssky."
"Oh dear, are you drunk? I...I suppose I don't blame you. Are you safe, at least?"
"Snug as a bug on a...drug. Alcohol'ssssss a drug, innit?"
"Crowley, where are you?"
"Ssssssssanta Monica! Havin a blast. Wasting away again in Margaritaville, as the locals say. Yer not gonna-"
"I hope you don't terribly mind if I-"
The call disconnected, and Aziraphale manifested a few feet away from Crowley.
"Yer wearin pyjamas," Crowley pointed out. Aziraphale blushed. He was, indeed, wearing a pair of plaid pyjama pants and a grey, long-sleeved shirt. But Crowley was wearing a speedo.
Crowley snapped his fingers and Aziraphale's clothes changed. All he had on now was a pair of swim trunks with a shark on one leg. Instinctively, Aziraphale crossed his arms over his stomach.
"Sssssssshirt stays off when you apologize to me, amgel. Lemme hear it."
"Oh, yes, well. It was wrong of me to say those horrible things to you that night. I was angry, but that doesn't mean I had a right to take it out on you. I'm sorry I said all of that and I'm sorry I hurt you. If you never want to talk to me again-"
"I'm talking to you right now, arent I?"
"Er...yes, I suppose."
"Then quit the guilt-tripping! I want to talk to you, and I still care about you, so don't make it seem like you're jussssssst a...the thing the early bird gets. I'm not out here because I'm mad at you, Aziraphale. I'm out here because...I'm mad at myself. And I wanted to give you your space."
Aziraphale was surprised. "You're not mad at me?"
Crowley sighed. He lay down in the sand, wacking the sand next to him to get Aziraphale to lay in it. After a moment's hesitation, his angel obliged.
"I didn't tell you what Gabriel said bcause I didn't think you needed to hear it. We were free, on our own side. No need to see them and go through all that again. I didn't know you were gonna go running back up to Heaven, or else I would have warned you not to. I should have told you the truth from the beginning, and I'm sorry I didn't. You deserved to know."
"I forgive you," Aziraphale said without hesitation. "I would likely have done the same thing."
"Guess that makes both of us horrible," Crowley said, sticking his hand in the sand. It was still warm from the sun being on it all day, and he wished he could turn into a snake and slither underneath it.
"I guess it does," Aziraphale said, looking up at the sky. Even after all this time, he still lay on his back in a proper, straight position, like he was lying in a coffin.
"What're you gonna do now?" Crowley asked.
"I'm not sure. What about you?"
"Dunno. That's why I asked you."
They lay in silence for a moment.
"Gabriel said he would kill me if I didn't meet my miracle quota this month," Aziraphale said.
"He said that?"
"I'm paraphrasing. But the deadline is coming up in...about 15 days."
"Someone did the math."
"Anyway, we...I need a plan."
"We. I'm not letting you do this alone."
"Right then. What is our plan?"
"Kick Gabriel's ass, I'm assuming. But how?"
Aziraphale shrugged, sniffling a bit. Crowley looked over to see golden ichor dripping out of Aziraphale's nose.
"Er..."
"It's happened a few times this week," Aziraphale said, tired. "I assume it's stress."
"Is this really more stressful than the end of the world?"
"Sometimes, Crowley, thinking there will be an end gives more comfort than being alive past it. When the world was ending, we had a plan. And we knew what would happen if the plan didn't work. But now...there's no plan. No way out but forward."
Crowley grabbed Aziraphale's hand. "We'll figure it out. Together. Promise."
Aziraphale rolled over and threw himself at Crowley, sobbing into his chest. Crowley petted his hair, humming softly.
"Tempt you to a drink?"
Aziraphale nodded.
AC: We have 15 days
AC: Bit of a situation here
AC: Shory version is that Gabriel is a rat bastard and were going to kick his ass
AC: *short
AC: We'll need all the help we can get
AC: can someone please talk to the witch finder guy? Got a feeling he can help
MT: On it!
AD: I'll check the book again, see if theres anything new
AC: thank you both so much
They hadn't gone straight home. Crowley had suggested they take a few days to relax and enjoy the scenery. Plus, Aziraphale had never been to a beach strictly for pleasure before.
Crowley wasn't a big fan of the salt water, preferring the nice warm sand, but he walked up to the edge of the water with Aziraphale, who dipped a toe in.
"It's cold!" He cried. Crowley smirked.
Aziraphale stalled further into the water, pulling Crowley along. They went about waist deep.
"Do you know how to swim?" He asked Crowley.
"You don't swim in the ocean, there's no point."
"What do you do then?"
"Wait for the waves."
As they stood there the tides rolled in, gradually pushing against them more and more. Crowley led them a little farther forward until the waves were almost pushing them over.
"Now what?" Aziraphale asked.
"Jump."
With the next big wave they jumped, the water pulling them up and backwards, weightless. Aziraphale yelped, but quickly found his footing again. They repeated the process a few more times until Aziraphale was laughing delightedly. Both of them lost their footing several times, slipping under the water before spluttering back to the surface, but it was never enough to make either of them want to leave. After awhile they tired out and made their way back to the edge of the water. They stood for a bit, letting the waves wash the sand out from under their feet, completely silent for a moment.
"There's tons of beaches out there I've never touched," Aziraphale said softly. "Countries and continents I've not seen in centuries. To think it all could have gone away and I would never have known what I was missing.
"After all we went through, we're still in the same old bookshop in the same city in the same country. Nothing's changed. Maybe, once this whole Gabriel business is over, we could...see the world? Like erm...Rick Steeves?"
"Didn't he only go to Europe?"
"I thought you said you didn't watch PBS?"
"Nevermind! Anyway, travel?"
"Yes. I think it would be nice. Oh, we could go see Alpha Centauri!"
"You remember that?"
"Of course, dear. You never went, remember? You said something came up."
"Oh, yeah..."
"We should go sometime!"
"...yeah. Sounds good."
"Crowley, are you alright?"
"...no." Crowley sat down in the sand. Aziraphale joined him.
"I didn't go to Alpha Centauri because I was supposed to go with you, and I thought...I thought you'd died in that bookshop."
"Oh. Oh..."
"Ssssss'nothing to worry about. It's the past. Just didn't want to keep anything else from you."
Aziraphale hugged Crowley, kissing his salty forehead. "I hope I haven't been insensitive, dear."
"Not at all...Aziraphale."
Despite himself, he shivered.
"Are you alright?"
"Bit cold. Sssssssssnake thing."
Aziraphale hugged him a bit tighter. "Let's dry off then?"
Crowley nodded.
Back in the Airbnb Crowley had been staying in, Crowley threw himself onto the bed, sighing as he sunk into the mattress.
"Goofball," Aziraphale teased. He'd never used that word before, but he liked it.
"One and only...darling?"
Aziraphale chuckled, oblivious to Crowley's plight. He sat neatly on the bed next to Crowley, taking a moment to focus on his breathing. Crowley looked up suspiciously, a scheme in his eyes.
"Grab me the remote, will you...love?"
"Of course," Aziraphale said, fetching the remote and handing it over.
"Thank you...dearest?"
"Of course, Crowley." There was a pause, and then Aziraphale turned around to a red-faced Crowley. "Aren't you going to turn it on?"
"Of course...baby?" He flicked it on to a random channel, glad Aziraphale didn't notice his grimace.
"Have you thought about dinner, sugar plum?" He asked. This was a mistake. He was hating this. His natural inclination to evil was fighting him.
"No, but I suppose we could order something. What do people usually eat around here?"
"I'll look it up." He conjured up his phone.
AC: anathema I need your help
AD: oh god what? Is he okay?
AC: I need something else to call Aziraphale besides angel
AD: r u kidding me rn
AD: its scrabble night
AC: please. I'm begging. Look at me beg. Screenshot it if you want.
AD: Have you tried "dear"?
AC: darling, love, dearest, baby, sugar plum
AD: wow
AD: none worked, huh?
AC: none of them feel right
AC: I've been calling him angel for 6000 years
AC: but it just feels wrong to now
AD: hmm
AD: talk to him about it?
AC: I cant just ASK him
AC: he'll be all "oh it doesn't matter dear, you can call me anything you like" and that's no help at all
AD: drama queen
AC: one and only
AD: pff
AD: why dont you sleep on it or smthn
AC: I guess.
AC: What do people eat in Santa Monica
AD: crowley what the actual fuck
