Crowley held the tyre iron in his hand. It felt reassuringly heavy. Not that it would help much. After all, this was the Devil. Satan. Lucifer, the first angel to take the plunge and leave Heaven.
Crowley was shit scared.
If he had a choice, he'd turn and run. Oh, he knew that it wouldn't help. If Armageddon was going to happen, it would happen everywhere. It was just the fact of being right where it would start, that was what he was afraid of.
Even if their side won, Crowley wasn't exactly Hell's favourite person. After all, he'd mucked up the Antichrist, killed Ligur with holy water, imprisoned Hastur in an answering machine, and… well… there was the reason he hadn't legged it when Satan started to appear.
Aziraphale.
Crowley threw a quick look at the angel. He was staring straight ahead, white wings spread. The flaming sword in his hand was making shadows dance across his face. Crowley couldn't leave the angel, not now. They'd started it together, and now they were going to finish it together.
The end.
Of everything.