Title: Crowley's Ark

A/N: For the Cold Omens zine! It's a lot of fun writing from Crowley's POV.

Summary: Crowley wasn't saving anyone from the flood. No, he was just thwarting God's plans, giving these souls torture on earth, and other demonic things. That was it, really. Even the dense Aziraphale had to see that.

The greatest evil was thwarting the big guy upstairs. It was the best outcome for any devilish plans. It was also Crowley's explanation if any demon asked why he was rescuing animals and children instead of letting them just drown in the flood. It wasn't a good look, in all honesty—a demon saving lives? Innocent lives? They'd destroy him in an instant.

But a demon ruining God's plans? Well, that put an evil spin on it. He was stopping the great, ineffable plan, punching holes in God's desires, etcetera, etcetera. Besides, these kids would die at some point. There was plenty of times to condemn them to hell. Crowley was about 80% certain that the other demons would buy it.

He wasn't at all sure if he himself bought it, but at least the small, naggy feeling in him stopped now that he'd saved a handful of poor, lost souls. Crowley rubbed his chest absentmindedly. That pain was new. A few hundred years ago, he would have felt nothing. Maybe he was coming down with something. Some sort of strange demon-sickness from spending too much time up here.

A goat bleated and Crowley sighed.

"Can I have at least one minute to myself?" he asked as he turned on his heel, glaring at the herd gathered behind him. He was aware of the irony, of a demon with a lost flock. At least his flock was full of evil, unrepentant souls, struck down by God and condemned to death.

His flock was also filled with goats, penguins, sheep, elephants, and children. Oh, and one scraggly adult, though she looked like she would croak at any minute. Crowley scrunched his nose as he looked at the sickly woman. He wasn't sure what he was thinking at all when he saved her—she was shaking so badly she looked like she was about to give herself a heart attack.

The goat bleated back in response and perhaps Crowley could make an exception and just toss it in the water now. Honestly, this would all be a little more bearable if it the rain relented a tad. Just a tad. Instead, it rained like the cats and dogs drowning in the flood.

Pushing his sopping hair out of his eyes, he growled, "You're alive, what more do you want?"

The goat stamped her foot.

"Shelter?" Crowley scoffed, gesturing at the barren mountaintop they were all standing on. Honestly, they were lucky there was a place tall enough to stay above water. Clearly the big guy had miscalculated with his flood. Maybe he'd forgotten to carry a one somewhere. "Does it look like there's a cave to hide here? Just huddle or whatever it is you goats do."

Turning around, the goat flipped her tail at him before stomping back to the rest of the herd.

"Oh sure, I save your sorry lives, and this is the thanks I get? Ungrateful bunch, the lot of you." Crowley crossed his arms and petulantly turned to face the flood once more. At least the water didn't talk back to him.

A shiver ran up his spine and he rubbed his arms. Damn, it was cold. Why was he even here, still?

"You saved some." Soggy wings flapped awkwardly as Aziraphale landed next to him. The angel didn't look half as wet as he did, and Crowley wondered if Aziraphale had been watching from afar this whole time, doing nothing.

Feeling a little spiteful, he turned away. "I didn't save them. I ruined the 'ineffable plan'."

Aziraphale frowned and looked over his shoulder. The goat bleated again. "I don't know, they look very saved to me."

"That's only for now." Crowley snorted. Of course an angel would get it wrong. Thinking the best of his actions—sometimes, Aziraphale acted like he'd forgotten Crowley had fallen. "They'll be tormented later. It'll be a slow torture up here, for the rest of their lives—"

"Well, that doesn't sound too bad," Azirphale interrupted cheerfully. Crowley didn't have to see him to know the exact expression on his face, the mindless smile he wore whenever he got the wrong idea.

"—and then a longer one in hell." He finished curtly. Crowley turned around and looked at Aziraphale now. "Because their souls are damned."

"Oh." Aziraphale's shoulders dropped slightly, his wings curling up a bit more. Tone flat, he replied, "I guess I should have expected that."

Crowley nodded, though he didn't feel all that triumphant about it. "Yeah, you should have."

The rain continued to fall. It was a hard rain, an angry one, nothing at all like the gentle rain that fell centuries ago when Adam and Eve left Eden. Aziraphale's wing had covered him back then, and Crowley tried not to remember the warmth he felt from a single gesture. It was strange how he kept remembering that moment, that one small, insignificant moment.

"Alright then." Finally, Aziraphale unfurled his wings once more. Despite how wet they were, they still managed to look magnificent in the rain, a bright white against all the dreary greys. A single flap and the water clinging to his feathers splashed onto Crowley's face. "I know what to do."

"What the he—" Before Crowley could yell, Aziraphale was in the skies, flying off to a destination unknown. "Angel?"

Aziraphale didn't look back, disappearing into the rain. Was that disappointment? Judgement? Why did Crowley even care?

"Like I wasn't wet enough already without that!" he yelled, trying not to feel hurt. It was nothing. It meant nothing.

And he had more important matters to attend to. Done with his pity party, he returned back to the menagerie of animals, children, and one adult that he'd saved. The goat gave him a look and he glared back at it. "Alright, chop chop. I have to do everything around here, it seems."

A little girl, rubbing her shoulders, approached him and tugged his robe. "M-mister, it's cold."

"It's raining, what do you expect?" he answered dryly, rolling his eyes. Children. Honestly, it was a miracle some of them grew up to be semi-intelligent adults. The girl still looked at him, eyes wide. "Don't think that works on me," he muttered, before gesturing at the few sheep in flock. "Look, cling to those guys a bit, they're warm."

"Thanks, mister!" The girl beamed at him. Clearly she didn't have a clue who he was, or she wouldn't have bothered.

"Can't have you die before I torture you," he muttered.

Hands on his hips, he finally assessed the mountain they were taken refuge on. Behind him was a cliff, the water steadily rising as the rain continued to poor. In the far distance, he could just make out Noah's boat. It bobbed in the water, just managing to stay together despite what was probably really inadequate carpentry. There was no way Noah knew how to make a boat big enough to handle this much water and those many animals. It probably stunk a lot in there too.

And I thought we were supposed to be the selfish ones¸ Crowley thought, tearing his eyes away from the rising waters. The only good thing was that they'd risen so much that he couldn't see the bodies anymore. Now it was just a large body of water.

The mountain they stood on was mostly flat at the top, with one end slightly taller than the rest of the plateau. Squinting, he could just make out a cave of sorts over there. Well, that was better than nothing. Maybe he could dump them all there.

And maybe he should just leave after all of that. He wasn't sure why he was still here; he'd done his part in wrecking the plan. Everything after was unnecessary.

"Alright, we're heading over there," Crowley announced, pointing at the cave.

The goat looked over there, then back at him and bleated.

"It's shelter, what more do you want?" Crowley snapped back. "Look, if it isn't big enough, just take turns inside or something."

This time the elephant trumpeted, and he threw his hands in the air. "It's not like there's a second cave big enough for you. Aren't you supposed to like water?"

Stamping the ground once, the goat bleated before slowly picking her way toward the cave. The rest of the flock followed suit. The elephants, despite their complaints, kept around the smaller animals, keeping the herd together as the others waddled, trotted, and walked forward. The old woman, surprisingly, had found some sort of support animal in one of the penguins and was miraculously staying upright for the journey.

"When did she become the leader?" Crowley complained, keeping to the back of the group as they made their way across the slippery ground. The long grasses were slick with water, making them slower than they had to. "You know I'm the one who save—brought you here!"

The animals didn't reply. Next time, he'd stick to rescuing plants. They were a more grateful bunch than this sorry lot.

The cave was a small one, just as the elephants had expected. Too small for any of them to do more than just stand outside it, giving him baleful glares the entire time.

"Look, miracles don't work like that. I can't just make a cave big. And even if I could, why would I use a miracle on something like this?" Crowley huffed, watching as the children and sheep huddled inside the cavern. It was still damp in there, but still wasn't raining entirely.

Maybe he could make them a fire. It wouldn't really take a miracle for that, and it'd keep them warm. Or—

"Crowley."

Once more, Aziraphale pulled him out of his thoughts. Still a little miffed about earlier, Crowley crossed his arms and stubbornly refused to look at him. "Angel."

"You found a cave for them." Aziraphale sounded pleased.

"They're still going to die either way," Crowley pointed out obstinately. "After all that work I put in too."

That didn't dim the angel an iota. "It'll be fine. We can protect them together."

"Together?" Surprised, Crowley snapped his head at Aziraphale. The angel looked even soggier than before, his magnificent wings now a mushy mess. More importantly, however, was the white unicorn standing next to him, still looking utterly regal despite the rain. His jaw dropped. "The unicorn."

"Well, I know this is the ineffable plan." Aziraphale smiled awkwardly, looking a little lost and uncertain. "And I don't have to understand it…but it didn't really sit right with me either. And, well, I don't think it'll mess things up if a few of them got saved. He won't even notice, I'm sure."

Crowley stared at him. "Aziraphale…"

"Thanks." Aziraphale stepped forward, taking his hand. His skin was clammy. "I couldn't have done this without you."

Crowley looked at the unicorn once more, then at Aziraphale who smiled at him earnestly. He shrugged and replied gruffly, "Don't thank me."

He didn't pull his hand away.

It was strange, he felt that same warmth from back then, from when Aziraphale had held his wing over his head. It spread up his hand, through his chest, and Crowley wasn't sure what to make of it. Maybe he'd caught a fever, from standing out in the rain for so long.

It was the only reasonable explanation for the strange heat that refused to go away.