Disclaimer: Good Omens, along with its characters, locations, etc. are the property of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett. If I owned the rights to it, I wouldn't still be desperate to meet the man that I absolutely ADORE: David Tennant.
Summary: Crowley finally wakes up from his year-long nap and goes to the bookshop to find a distraught Aziraphale. As it turns out, they are both very upset about what has taken place in 2020 and are both in need of comfort from one another. Hurt/comfort, angst, love confessions. Mild language warning. One-Shot.
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Worry
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Crowley wearily blinked his eyes open and yawned, stretching his arms above his head. He rolled over and checked his phone for the date and the news – he had slept until the middle of November, and the number of deaths from the virus was rising again. Crowley briefly thought about rolling back over and sleeping again, but he figured he should at least check on Aziraphale before he considered anything of the sort. It was close to the holidays, and Aziraphale was probably fretting about the lives that were being lost.
Crowley rolled out of bed, yawning again, and lazily stepped up to his mirror to assess the damage he had inflicted on himself for sleeping for seven months straight. His hair had grown out to just past his shoulders, and it was caked with grime from not being washed for nearly a year. He had impressions in his cheek and on his arms from being pressed into the bed for so long. His nails needed clipped and he didn't smell very great either.
He had intended to indulge himself in a long, hot shower before heading to Aziraphale's, but, now that he was fully awake, he had a growing feeling of worry in his gut. He felt that something was wrong with Aziraphale, somehow. He snapped his fingers to clean and style his hair (leaving it at the length it had grown to, and letting his natural curls tumble over his shoulders), change his clothes, and clip his fingernails. He grabbed his keys and breezed out the door, downstairs, and to his beloved Bentley. As he drove toward the bookshop, the feeling of worry intensified. He sped up until he was nearly going 100 through central London, screeching to a halt in front of the bookshop. Before he had even gotten his car in park, Aziraphale burst through the doors of his shop and ran over to the Bentley, hovering only a few inches from the driver's side door. Crowley eased the door open, making sure he wouldn't hit his friend, and then hopped down to the pavement, shutting the door behind him.
"Aziraphale, I was worried. Are you okay?" Crowley asked, walking toward the bookshop and hoping that the angel would follow him.
"Am I okay?!" Aziraphale yelled, causing heads to turn in their direction. Crowley waved at the pedestrians sheepishly, placing a hand lightly on the angel's shoulder and leading him inside. He gently pushed Aziraphale through the doors and closed them behind him, clicking the lock into place and turning the sign so it said the shop was closed.
He turned back to Aziraphale, who seemed to be seething silently. "You sound angry. What happened?" Crowley asked patiently.
"What happened? You left, Crowley! Things started getting tough and you left me alone for almost a year! I needed you!" Aziraphale yelled, flailing his arms and knocking a stack of book to the floor with a loud thump.
Crowley fought the urge to snap his fingers and put the books back where they had been, figuring that it would make Aziraphale angrier than he already was. He scrubbed a hand down his face, trying to think of what to say.
"What do you have to say for yourself? I thought you had died! I went to your flat a hundred times to check on you, but your protection spells wouldn't let me through!" Aziraphale yelled. Crowley silently put a spell around the bookshop that would block the noise from the people on the street.
"Aziraphale, I'm sorry. I thought I had set the protections so you could get through. I'm sorry I didn't double check." Crowley stepped forward cautiously, waiting for Aziraphale to back away from him. When he didn't, Crowley sighed inwardly with relief. "And I'm sorry I left you, angel. This year, this pandemic… it got to me, Aziraphale. It hasn't even been two years since we saved the world, and it's already being destroyed again. You know I don't like to watch humans die…"
"Neither do I!" Aziraphale yelled. Crowley heard his words hitch, like there were tears clogging his throat, but he decided not to mention it for now.
"I know, angel. I'm so sorry. I should have set more alarms so I could wake up and check on you." Crowley stepped forward again, cautiously placing his hands on Aziraphale's shoulders. "I know I fucked up, Aziraphale. I'm sorry I hurt you, but I promise that I won't leave you like this ever again."
Aziraphale sniffed, patting one of Crowley's hands with his own. "I'm sorry I yelled at you, Crowley. It was unfair of me. I know it hurts you to see so many humans dying from something that we cannot prevent." Now Crowley felt tears choking up his own throat. He sniffed and used his free hand to wipe his eye under his sunglasses.
"Come, dear." Aziraphale took ahold of Crowley's hand and led him to the backroom of the shop. As the entered, he let go of the demon's hand and laid down on the sofa, near the edge. When Crowley looked at him with confusion, Aziraphale patted the cushions between him and the back of the sofa. Crowley raised an eyebrow, making the angel pat the cushions again.
"Angel…" Crowley started to ask.
"Come here, Crowley. Please." Aziraphale asked quietly.
Crowley conceited, taking his sunglasses off and setting them on the coffee table before crawling over the end of the sofa and squeezing himself in the space next to Aziraphale. Before he had even had a chance to settle in (he had been planning on leaving as much space between him and the angel as possible), Aziraphale flung an arm around Crowley's back and pulled the demon's head against his chest.
Crowley held himself stiff, his arms rigid at his side. He didn't know what was happening, and he was afraid that he would have a hard time hiding his feelings for the angel if they were lyig this close together.
"Relax, dear." Aziraphale whispered. Once again, Crowley conceited, throwing his arm across the angel's belly. He was partially draped across Aziraphale now, but the angel didn't seem to mind.
Aziraphale started carding his fingers through Crowley's hair, and the demon sighed happily. "I like your hair like this." Aziraphale commented.
"It grew out when I was asleep." Crowley explained.
"You should keep it this way for a little while." Crowley could hear the smile in Aziraphale's voice.
"Anything to make you happy, angel." Crowley said. He felt Aziraphale's hand pause briefly before returning to its ministrations. "I'm sorry, Aziraphale. I will never stop being sorry for leaving you. It was selfish of me to sleep for so long and leave you alone to deal with all of this."
"I forgive you, dear. I will always forgive you. You are the most important person in my life, and I will not let petty disagreements stop me from loving you." Aziraphale brought his other hand up from where it had been resting next to him and started stroking Crowley's back.
"I don't deserve your love, Aziraphale, or your forgiveness." Crowley muttered. He sat up from where he had been lying against the angel's chest, reaching for his sunglasses.
"Don't, Crowley." Aziraphale sat up, placing his hand lightly atop the demon's to stop him from reaching his glasses. "You absolutely deserve my love and forgiveness, my dear. You are the best person I know."
"I'm a demon." Crowley said flatly, turning away from the angel.
"And? Crowley, whether you are a demon, or an angel, or an ordinary human, you are wonderful. Despite being a demon, you care more about humanity and the earth than any angel I have ever known. You are a good person, my dear. You were a friend to me even when I treated you as nothing more than a means to an end." Aziraphale grasped Crowley's hand with both of his, stroking the demon's knuckles with his thumb. "I love you, Crowley, and I will always love you, until the end of time." Aziraphale kissed the back of Crowley's hand lightly, then tilted forward and kissed the demon lightly on the cheek, catching a falling tear on his lip. He reached forward and place his hand on Crowley's other cheek, turning his face and resting their foreheads together.
Crowley sniffed, shakily pressing his hand against Aziraphale's (wet) cheek. Before he could think too far into it, he tilted his head up and kissed the angel's forehead, causing Aziraphale to launch himself forward into the demon's arms, nearly knocking him backwards.
"I love you too, angel. Always. I promise I will never leave like that again." He choked out. He placed his hand on the back of Aziraphale's head, stroking the soft white curls. "We'll fight this together, just like we always have."
"Oh, my love…" Aziraphale pushed himself up from where his face was buried in Crowley's shoulder, looking his demon in the eyes. "That's all I could ever ask."