"Are you alright?" Aziraphale finally asked.
"I'm just tired. I'm going to go for a lay down and you need to open the shop."
"Hang the shop!"
Crowley's head snapped round to look at him in shock and the angel sighed. "I just meant you're more important than the shop. I never sell anything anyway."
"I'm fine, Angel. Just wasn't ready for it. A couple of hours and I'll be fine. Go on, go harass the public into not buying any books.
Aziraphale sighed and pursed his lips. "Fine. But call me if you need me."
"Stop fussing," he said good naturedly before sitting heavily on the bed.
Shaking his head the angel headed down stairs leaving the demon in silence.
When he heard the bolts on the front door being undone, Crowley went to the bookcase looking for the book Aziraphale had read to him on who they thought he was.
Resting it on the breakfast bar Crowley sat on a stool and began leafing through the pages. There had to be something here. Had to be.
After half an hour frustration got the better of him and he growled loudly into the room slamming the book shut.
"Something wrong?" Aziraphale's gentle voice sounded in the quiet that followed.
"What are you doing back?"
"Slow day. What were you looking for?"
"I don't know. And I can't even tell if I've seen it because my stupid eyes don't work properly. Like everything else at the moment." He shifted on the stool trying to get comfortable.
"Dear boy, come and sit on the sofa," the angel said, picking up the book and taking Crowley's hand, "and tell me what this is about. I'm guessing it has something to do with our visitor?"
"I want to know what he's up to…. and to do that I need to know who everyone thinks I was, am...," he sighed.
"Ah. Yes. Right then. I'll read, you shout if anything sounds familiar."
XxXxX
"Hell is a complicated system of hierarchies and calculations. It's estimated the number of demons is 4,439,622, divided into 666 legions, each legion composed by 6,666 demons, and all of them ruled by 66 hellish dukes, princes, kings, etc. The Lesser Key of Solomon copied the division in legions from Pseudomonarchia Daemonum but added more demons, and so more legions. It is suggestive that both Spina and Weyer used 666 and other numbers composed by more than one 6 to calculate the number of demons; 133,316,666 demons, 666 legions, 6,666 demons in each legion, 66 rulers," Aziraphale read.
"That's a lot of bloody sixes, and a lot of words I haven't heard in forever" Crowley sighed.
"Does any of it sound familiar?"
"The numbers are probably about right, chaos reigns supreme. So both sides seem to think I'm one of 66?"
"So it would seem."
"Great." He rubbed the back of his neck.
"Do you want me to continue?"
"Does it say anywhere who the 66 are?"
"Um….well yes. 9 Kings, 7 Princes, 23 Dukes, 15 Marquises, 5 Counts, 1 Knight, and 12 Presidents."
"You thought this Belial was a Prince?"
"That's what seemed to be implied yes."
"Is he listed anywhere there?"
There was a pause before the Angel spoke. "Ah yes here! 'Belial also known as' yada, yada, yada… ah 'is listed as the sixty-eighth spirit of The Lesser Key of Solomon. He is a….' oh my," the angel breathed, suddenly becoming very tense.
"What?" Crowley looked over at the book. "What's that?" He pointed at a picture.
Aziraphale cleared his throat. "That would be his seal."
"Why does he have a seal?" He looked up at his….What even were they now? How was he supposed to describe his relationship with the angel?
"Um….well, maybe I should read on…. ' He is a King of Hell with 80 legions of demons, and 50 legions of spirits, under his command. He was created as the first, after Lucifer. He has the power to distribute senatorships and gives excellent familiars. He must be presented with offerings, sacrifices and gifts, or else he will not give true answers to demands."
Crowley froze, a rushing began in his ears.
"Crowley? Are you alright?"
"Yep. Great. Wonderful. Absolutely," he gulped. "So not a Prince then?...Right. Well. Still, I might not be him. There are another 65 demons on the list."
Aziraphale took his hand. "Breathe dearest."
"You said Prince. In Tadfield you all thought he was a Prince."
"Yes. Well that's what that text said. But you know how these texts are, they're written by men with very little regard for the truth." He scanned the rest of the page. "Look here, under Dukes, Hastur isn't listed and Beelzebub isn't listed under Princes either."
"If you found a list of all the demons you wouldn't find one called Crowley. We pick our own names, we change them when it suits us."
"Maybe we should stop this now. Come back to it when it feels a bit less tense."
"It'll never not be tense. You're involved with me….80 legions of demons and 50 of spirits?!"
Clearing his throat, Aziraphale nodded. "Yes. Um, the most out of the Kings funnily enough."
"There's nothing funny about this."
"No. You're right, there's not."
"Argh! Why couldn't they just LEAVE ME ALONE?! Was it too much to ask after 6000 years of doing what they want? Fucking HASSSSSSTUR! And now I've got this bastard Archangel coming after me too!"
"Crowley. Calm yourself my dear boy."
"I can't go back. I can't. Not to either of them. And you know if downstairs getssss wind of upstairs' interest they'll be here before you know it."
"Well maybe that's not a bad thing."
The demon flashed his gaze at him dangerously.
"Hear me out. If they come up to see you, maybe you can get an answer."
"I don't WANT the answer. I want to be me. I want to be Crowley. No one else."
"And you will be."
"We've already seen that's not true. You've met him," he said darkly.
"And he left."
"When he was burnt with your sword! Face it. I'm FUCKED!"
"No! I refuse to accept that. If you are as powerful as they think you are and you are who we think you are, then you have control to be able to command so many demons. As long as we don't summon him again then you'll be you."
"And if they summon him?"
Aziraphale stared at him.
"Hadn't thought of that had you? Be honest. If you're wanting the upper hand are you going to want me or him?"
"Heaven wouldn't summon a demon."
"You did."
"Well that's different. Heaven will try to reinstate your angelic status, turn you towards the light again."
"Don't get too excited. It won't be happening."
"Crowley. Haven't you worked it out yet? I love you. As you are now, as you've been since I met you. I don't want an angel or a King of Hell. Just you, you infuriating serpent!"
The demon searched his face. He meant it. Every word.
"We will stop whatever it is they have planned. They didn't win before and they won't win this time. We will think of something. As it stands right now, we are none the wiser about what Gabriel is up to."
"It's not good, we know that." Crowley frowned, tossing his glasses onto the coffee table.
"What are you thinking?"
"What was it he said? 'We need the demon to come back home. Need him to return to the fold' and 'the powerful men are talking.'" Crowley didn't miss his angel's flinch at the memory, and rested a hand on the back of his neck, playing with the hair that brushed his shirt collar, causing the angel to sigh. "He asked if I'd like to be an angel again, but didn't ever promise to make me one again."
"If I didn't know better I'd say he was lying."
"Do we know better? Where in Her Great plan does She ever forgive a demon. Unforgivable is in our DNA. She put it there. No. There is something else going on here. I'd say we should run but they'd still find us wherever we went."
Crowley looked wrung out, Aziraphale thought. His eyes had lost their glow and his face was lined with badly hidden worry. His fingers were unusually cold too
"I should go and check on my plants."
"I already did. When I removed the blessing from your door, I set them up so they'd be fine for a few weeks."
The demon smiled at him. "Thought of everything."
"Well not quite. We haven't checked you for the last day or so. I did the best I could whilst you were asleep but I don't know how good a job I did."
"Just as well I wasn't sleeping on the ceiling. Then you'd have had real trouble."
"The ceiling?"
"Has been known. The laws of physics don't really apply."
"I'll have to remember that the next time I can't find you…. check the ceiling." They smiled at each other at the absurdity of it.
"Come on. Let's get you seen too, you looked like you were in a lot of pain earlier, before the park."
Crowley sighed and unbuttoned his shirt. "Not a lot of pain. Just a tiring amount after a while. It's a slight burn and it grows over time."
"Still your side again?"
The demon grunted in response as he shifted himself around.
"Oh my…." Aziraphale gasped. "Well I wasn't expecting that."
"Must be to do with how the sword was made."
"You've seen it?"
"Sort of."
"And you didn't mention it?"
"Didn't think it was important."
"Didn't think… Crowley it's gold!"
"So's my hand if you look."
"I thought it was brimstone like your feet!"
"That's consecration, that's just a holy declaration. The spear and your sword are literally Heavenly."
The angel reached out and tentatively stroked the golden marks, they looked like tendrils of a flame licking his side.
His touch made Crowley's muscles twitch and he wondered if it felt the same as his bite mark.
"We're not as different as we think. You're injured by Heaven and it goes gold, I'm injured by Hell and it goes gold."
The demon was watching him intently and he suddenly felt like prey. Swallowing heavily he changed the subject.
"So, black wings was your choice?"
Crowley sat forward and let his wings loose with a sigh of pleasure, the bones cracking back into place. "Yup. Felt like a change."
Aziraphale watched the light dance across them as he stood and walked round him. "They're actually rather beautiful because they're not just black. It's like watching the sun reflect in oil; purples, blues and green. I'd never noticed before."
"No reason to," the demon shrugged, flexing his wings with another sigh.
Reaching out the angel trailed his fingers over them. "They're as soft as mine," he announced, noticing the feathers ruffle at his touch.
"That's because they're the same, just a different colour."
"So could you turn them white? I mean if you wanted to...or needed to?"
Crowley hesitated before a ripple ran over his back, his iridescent feathers becoming snowy white.
"Well now. Isn't that interesting?" Aziraphale declared gleefully.
"Satisfied?" Crowley sounded grumpy as he concentrated on turning his feathers black again. The angel seemed to be enjoying the sight of white wings too much for his liking.
"Beautiful. Just beautiful." He reached out and stroked them again, mollifying Crowley's agitation. "Just an observation, my dear. May come in handy. I've never touched someone else's wings." The wonderment was plain in his voice. "Does it always have this effect?" he asked, tickling the smaller tertiary feathers, watching Crowley shudder.
"I don't, I don't know. No one has ever touched them before."
"Really?"
"Well I don't make a habit of just whipping them out whenever I feel like it."
Aziraphale chuckled. "You sound prickly all of a sudden, my dear, are you quite alright?"
Crowley grumbled.
"What was that?"
The red head stood abruptly, probably too abruptly because he swayed slightly on his feet as he spun round, crushing his mouth to the angel's causing him to squeak.
As their lips moved and tongues duelled, Aziraphale buried his fingers between the feathers closest to the demon's back, enjoying the whimper it elicited and how Crowley pressed himself closer to his body.
He could feel Crowley's excitement pressing against him, getting harder by the moment.
"We should sssstop," Crowley whispered.
"Why?"
"Because I feel like a horny teenager."
Aziraphale flexed his fingers amongst the feathers and Crowley gasped. "Is that a problem?"
"I'm too old to behave like a horny teenager," he whimpered as there was another ruffle in his feathers. "You're not playing fair," he gulped.
"6000 years you said. A 6000 year build up to this. You've been patient long enough," the angel told him.
The demon looked at him, his snakelike pupils dilating until they were almost human. "Why can't I control myself when you touch me? Why can't I get enough of you?" he whispered.
"Too many millennia spent waiting, my love." Aziraphale hadn't meant to say it. He'd purposely been avoiding using that word so that he wouldn't pressure his demon but it just slipped out and now they were staring at each other, their breathing ragged from the tension. He was waiting for Crowley to retreat, to make up an excuse to distance himself.
Instead Crowley devoured him, pulling him even closer, unable to stop the grind of his hips, desperate for friction as he whimpered.
Aziraphale buried his fingers back into Crowley's feathers causing him to cry out.
"Angel, you keep doing that and I'm gonna come apart," the demon hissed.
The offending angel chuckled and nipped at his jaw. "I see no problem with that," he purred, pressing his hip to Crowley's groin.
"Ngk!"
He did it again.
"Jesus Christ. I'm going to discorperate," Crowley ground out.
"I don't think that's possible," Aziraphale assured him, capturing his lips in a kiss and he worked a hand between them, grabbing Crowley through his trousers. He could feel the temperature rising quickly, it felt like the demon was burning up.
Suddenly Crowley wrenched himself away, crying out and dropping to the floor.
"Crowley?"
"Stay back!" he commanded as flames appeared, engulfing him. "Stay baaaaaaagggghh." His words faded into a scream of agony before everything fell silent.