Commission fic for Laurearbre, Hope you enjoy! ^_^

A Demon's Best Friend

A Good Omens Fanfic

Crowley was really beginning to regret waking up.

After the several decades long nap he'd taken earlier that century, it seemed like it was just one thing after another from Hell. Do this, Crowley, do that, Crowley, and he could never seem to catch a break.

Like now that there was a supposedly dangerous fugitive from Hell on the loose, who was it they sent out? One of Hell's hit squad? One of the authoritative figures?

Nope—Crowley. They sent Crowley. Who might be very good at causing wiles that needed thwarting and getting commendations for them, but wasn't exactly the first person one would usually think of when the position of bounty hunter was needed.

That is, if a bounty was even involved, which he doubted. So literally any point towards doing this mission was moot. Aside from the obvious he didn't have a choice that is.

Crowley sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he searched for any demonic presence. There were too many people in London. It had always been bustling, yes, but it seemed that this century had brought even more people to the city. Crowley had missed a lot of innovation while he'd been asleep—things that Aziraphale had spent hours filling him in on, but people hadn't really changed. There were still a lot of them still doing human things and paying very little attention to what was around them.

Which is the same that could be said for Crowley when he failed to notice his pursuer.

It took him a few minutes, in fact, to realize he was being followed. Probably because it wasn't by a human or even a demon.

It was a dog.

A big , fluffy dog, who looked up at him with a cocked head as if wondering why Crowley had stopped.

"Go away," he hissed, flashing his eyes at the animal.

The dog only whined slightly and sat back on its haunches. Crowley growled. Usually animals didn't like him, wouldn't get near him. And this was definitely no hellhound, but here it was, waiting for him to start moving again as if they were best pals.

"I said get on with you!" Crowley hissed again.

The dog, in turn, cocked its head again, and Crowley frowned. It was funny, but certain things this dog did…he snorted. That was ridiculous. But, the more he looked at the dog, the more the thought was impossible to ignore: It reminded him of Aziraphale.

Crowley had a sudden suspicion and glanced at the dog judgingly from under his glasses. "You're not…actually…" he began, barely wanting to finish the sentence because of the ridiculousness.

The dog sneezed and shook itself slightly and Crowley relaxed a little. Okay, it wasn't actually the angel on some ridiculous mission or whatever he did in his spare time. But it still didn't explain why the dog had attached itself to him.

Crowley looked around for anyone who looked like they had lost a dog, but everyone was going about their own business like they should be doing. He was the one having a conversation with a dog on the street.

"Just go back to wherever home is!" Crowley snapped at the animal and turned around, striding off to handle his own business again.

A few seconds later, he glanced back and saw the dog trotting along after him, fluffy white fur—well, white was a relative term when it came to London street muck—plumping up and down at its sides from the happy, peppy steps the dog was taking. Crowley thought of Aziraphale's wings, the fluffy white feathers, and again rolled his eyes and huffed. Yes, it had been a while since he'd seen the angel, but that didn't mean he needed to resort to these ridiculous comparisons.

The fact that he had a dog following him now only made his mission so much more complicated.

But it didn't look like his situation was going to be rectified any time soon either. He spent all day searching London for the fugitive demon without success, and the dog followed him dutifully the entire time. Even when he went back to his lodgings that night, the dog simply followed him like he belonged there. The innkeeper gave him a look when Crowley grudgingly asked for something for the dog to eat, but did as he was asked.

"Hope you're happy," Crowley growled as he gave the dog the plate of stew once they were both in his room and it ate happily.

Crowley lay back on the small cot with a sigh, and closed his eyes. He felt weight on the mattress and then warmth settle over his feet.

"Whoa, hold on!" Crowley said, snapping at the dog who had made itself comfortable on the end of his bed. "Get down! I didn't say you could sleep up here!"

The dog hurriedly shuffled off the bed, but sat down, and looked up at Crowley with a whine before settling down with its chin against its paws.

Crowley tried to ignore it. "Don't look at me like that. Besides, you're filthy." But the wide blue eyes continued to stare at him and he bit his lip before he caved.

"All right, fine, get up here!" he groaned.

The dog yipped and happily hopped back up, lying across Crowley's feet and planting its head against his knees. Crowley hesitantly reached out and touched the dog's fluffy head. It was just as soft as it looked, even if the animal was a little dirty. Crowley scratched behind its ears and the dog yawned contentedly, eyes closing to sleep.

Crowley sighed and lay back, one hand still buried in the dog's fur. He really hoped he could find the demon and complete his mission tomorrow. Maybe then he could figure out where this dog actually belonged.

Aziraphale came back to the inn he was staying at, knocking mud from his boots.

"Ah, welcome back, Mr. Fell," the proprietor's wife called from the bar where she was cleaning up before the dinner rush. "Were you able to finish your business?"

"Ah, yes, thank you," Aziraphale said with a smile. He had been sent to the outskirts of London for a mission, and as usual when he was near there, he stayed with the Morris family at their inn. It was a lovely place; clean, comfortable, and Mrs. Morris was an excellent cook.

But today, he heard a sniffle come from the side of the room and looked over to see their daughter, Lucy, sitting by the fire, crying.

"Why, what has gotten Miss Lucy so upset?" Aziraphale exclaimed. He held a particular softness for the little girl, who, just last year, Crowley had saved from a runaway carriage while he and Aziraphale had been handling Arrangement business together in London. Ever since then, the Morrises had welcomed Aziraphale and Crowley back to their inn whenever they needed lodgings.

The little girl looked up at him now with a teary expression. "It's just that Cloud has gone missing!"

Aziraphale frowned in surprise. He knew how much Lucy loved the dog, a playful, white samoyed breed, and the dog was usually so well behaved, the idea of him going missing or running away was preposterous.

"But he's always by your side!" Aziraphale exclaimed. "A faithful companion indeed!"

"He was gone when I got up, the maid left the kitchen door open!" Lucy said, beginning to sob again as her mother came over to put a comforting arm around the little girl.

"We think he just decided to go on a runabout," Mrs. Morris said. "But he hasn't turned up yet."

"I won't be able to sleep without him!" Lucy said. "I want him back, mama!"

"I know, darling," her mother said softly, hugging her.

"Is there anything I can do?" Aziraphale asked.

The woman shrugged helplessly. "Just keep an eye out for him when you're in town, I suppose. Ask people if they've seen him if you wish."

"I'll do everything I can, I promise." Aziraphale said and turned to Lucy, bending down to her level, and reaching behind her ear to pull out a sweet. The magic tricks usually cheered her up, but he only got a small teary smile as she took the candy with trembling fingers and clutched it in her hand.

Aziraphale went up to his room, thinking. He had finished his mission and staying another day to find a little girl's dog certainly wouldn't interfere with Heavenly duty. After all, making a child happy was a good thing.

Finding things was a bit difficult to miracle overtly, but there were ways he could track the dog's whereabouts, which is exactly what he would do tomorrow.

He was determined to find Cloud, no matter what had befallen the poor canine.

Crowley woke to a wet nose pressed against his cheek, and a tongue lapping at his chin. He hissed and pushed the dog aside.

"Phwah, your breath!" he grunted.

He glanced out the window and groaned when he saw the sun was already up. Yes, he didn't need sleep, but it was a nice break and Crowley was procrastinating.

But he had procrastinated enough. Hopefully that day he would be able to find the demon he had been sent to track down, and then finally get to more of his own business again.

The dog, unsurprisingly, followed him out of the inn again and seemed completely happy to continue with this trend. Crowley rolled his eyes.

"You know, you probably don't want to stick around. It might get a little hairy," he said.

The dog simply whined and shook itself. Crowley snorted.

"Whatever, it's your funeral, mutt."

He walked around town for a while before he felt a tingle of sorts. It was definitely a demonic presence, that much he was sure of. And it was close by.

"Got you," he muttered. He glanced down at the dog with a small smirk. "He thinks he can run, but he'll be sorely mistaken."

Great…he realized a second later that he was talking to the dog now. He really was cracking. Maybe after this mission he would go back to sleep for another few decades.

The dog yipped softly, head whipping over to the right, staring at something.

Crowley glanced over in the same direction and saw a darkly-dressed figure slipping through the crowds, definitely putting off the demonic energy he had felt earlier.

The dog started to growl, hackles rising, and Crowley looked down with surprise. "Huh, maybe you're good for something after all."

The dog gave a sort of grin and Crowley started off through the crowd to follow the demon, reaching into his coat for the knife he had been given that would do damage if he needed it. Of course, he was told to bring the fugitive back to face proper punishment—the sadists in Hell didn't want to waste an opportunity for torture after all—but they wouldn't be too upset if Crowley had to dispatch the demon either.

Crowley just wanted to get done with this the quickest way possible.

The demon began to move to a worse part of town, the streets getting even dirtier and the looks on the faces of the people dark and standoffish. Crowley felt out of place with a huge fluffy white dog, but he focused on his hunt.

The demon ducked down an alley and Crowley, seeing an opportunity, raced down the next street, planning on cutting him off.

But when he got to the alley, there was no one there.

He looked around, furious that he seemed to have lost his prey. The dog raised his snout to sniff the air, and then suddenly whipped around with a snarl.

Crowley did the same and found the demon standing behind him, a wicked sneer on his face, under the darkness of the hat he wore.

"You know, I'm honestly disappointed that you're the one they decided to send after me. Not exactly your department, is it, Crowley?"

Crowley shrugged. "Doesn't really matter to me. We're here, and I've been instructed to bring you in."

The demon laughed. "Bring me in? And how do you propose to do that? With that little pig-sticker there?" he pointed to the knife Crowley was concealing against his leg.

Crowley glowered and the dog barked angrily. The demon's attention turned toward it.

"Wait, that's not even a Hellhound, is it? You do keep strange company. I think I'll be going now, though, since there doesn't really seem to be a threat here."

He turned, and Crowley stepped forward.

"Hold it!"

The demon spun around, lifting something to his lips and before Crowley could even register what was happening, he found that there was something sticking out of his throat, a stinging sensation in his neck.

"What the…" he reached up and pulled out a small dart.

"A little something of a parting gift, Crowley. Don't know if it will actually kill you or not, but it will put you in a bad way and will give me enough time to make my escape."

Crowley snarled and grabbed his throat with one hand and his knife with the other. "Well, this I'm pretty sure will kill you!"

He threw the knife and it hit the demon in the center of the chest. The demon cried out and started to stumble into a staggering run. Crowley made to follow him, but he suddenly felt very dizzy, and his legs turned to jelly. What the…he slammed his hand against a wall to hold himself up, fingers digging into the brick as he felt he couldn't breathe.

The dog was barking furiously, nudging at him before it raced around the corner of the building. Crowley didn't know what the insane creature was doing and couldn't really care at the moment, considering his current predicament.

He slid all the way down the wall. The wound in his neck from the dart felt like it was on fire and the sensation was starting to travel down his neck to settle into his chest, making it feel tight every time he tried to breathe.

There was a bark and a clatter of metal on the ground and Crowley wrenched his eyes open to see the white dog standing over him, and the knife he had thrown at the demon lying on the ground at its feet, bloody. Crowley wondered if the dog had finished the demon off somehow or if it had just picked up the blade to return to him in some morbid game of fetch after the demon succumbed to his wound. Either way, Crowley was grateful, he needed the dagger to keep him safe in the event that the demon wasn't dead.

He reached out and tried to clutch it, pulling it closer to him. His hand was trembling and he discovered that his whole body was shaking. A cough bubbled up in his throat and he curled in on himself, unable to fathom why he was suddenly so weak, like something was squeezing his lungs.

The dog whined and nudged him with its nose as if trying to get him up, but Crowley could barely keep his head up, let alone find the strength to raise his body off the ground. He coughed again, and it turned into a fit that brought fire to his lungs. He collapsed onto his side, arms wrapped around his tight ribs, gasping for breath.

The dog licked his face and simply plopped down beside him as if realizing he wasn't going to leave and decided to stay with him.

Crowley didn't want to admit it, but he was glad of the dog's presence in that moment. Because he had stumbled into a terrible situation and now he was terribly alone with no one to come to his aid, and the fugitive demon still on the loose if his wound hadn't killed him.

It was all too much for Crowley in that moment, and as the world swirled dizzily around him and his eyes slid shut, he was glad to at least have the dog there for company.

Aziraphale spent the next several days looking for Cloud, but the dog didn't seem to be anywhere to be found. He used every trick he had but by the morning of the fourth day, he began to fear the worst had happened. Lucy was inconsolable at this point, and her parents could barely get her to even eat anything. Seeing the little girl so distraught tore Aziraphale's heart apart, which is why he was still looking for the lost canine even though he was pretty sure at this point that there was no more reason to do so.

And yet…

Looking back on it, Aziraphale wasn't sure what led him to that particular alley, but he was certain that he was meant to end up there, to find, not only Cloud, but, what he was sure he had been meant to find all along.

"Cloud!" he cried upon seeing the dog first. He rushed into the alley as the dog's ears pricked up at the sound of his name, but he didn't come to Aziraphale as the angel thought he would. Instead, he settled back down next to a bundle of what looked like clothes, whining softly.

"Are you injured, Cloud?" Aziraphale asked the dog, who was obviously very dirty, but didn't seem to have any wounds that he could see.

And then a weak cough came from the bundle of clothes and Aziraphale realized, with horror that it was a person.

"Oh my," he breathed and hurried over, crouching down beside the lump. "Can I assist you in any way? You look awful…"

He trailed off, paling as he pulled aside the dirty coat and saw the face of the presumed homeless person.

He was impossibly even paler and thinner than usual, but it was obviously Crowley.

Aziraphale was in shock.

"Crowley?" he nearly whispered.

The demon still seemed to hear him though because his eyes opened to just slits, the gold dull and lifeless as they stared up at the angel.

"A-an'g'l," he managed before a cough ripped from his throat and his slight frame shuddered with the effort.

"My dear, what happened?" Aziraphale cried, peeling back more of the clothes to search for any wounds and finding a spot on his throat that looked like a puncture wound, but it was horribly inflamed, with threads of scarlet spreading from it, disappearing down the collar of Crowley's shirt. It looked like the demon had somehow been poisoned.

Cloud barked, nudging Crowley with his snout and Aziraphale turned to the dog while he kept one hand on Crowley's shoulder. "You did so well, Cloud. I'm so glad you stayed with Crowley. I don't know how you found him, but you have my thanks. Now let's get you both back to the inn."

He slipped his arms underneath Crowley and lifted, finding him to be extremely light—too light. Cloud trotted beside him and Crowley shifted with a moan in Aziraphale's arms.

"Don't worry, Crowley, I'll get you taking care of. It will only be a little while longer. I promise."

He kept murmuring these reassurances to the deathly sick demon as he found his way out of the seedier part of town to where he could call a cab.

A hansom stopped for him and he bundled Crowley and the dog inside, giving the address of the inn and holding Crowley carefully across his lap as they went on their way, Cloud watching over the demon dutifully.

When he finally got back to the inn, he had the coachman drive around the back so he could get Crowley inside without any of the other guests noticing. He paid the coachman, gathered Crowley into his arms again and hurried toward the back door, Cloud following dutifully behind.

Mr. and Mrs. Morris were discussing something in the back when he came barging in, rather rudely by his own standards.

"Mr. Fell!" Mrs. Morris exclaimed, then gasped as she caught sight of Crowley in his arms. "Oh my…"

Cloud barked and raced to her and Mr. Morris, licking their hands as they stared in shock.

"You found the dog!" Mr. Morris exclaimed.

"I did, but also my friend who is gravely ill," Aziraphale said. "Cloud was watching over him."

The Morrises looked at each other in more surprise, until they seemed to see the gravity of the situation. "Take him upstairs, I'll fetch some things to tend him with," Mrs. Morris said.

Aziraphale nodded gratefully, and hurried up the stairs with his precious burden, Mr. Morris following behind, opening the door to Aziraphale's room and turning down the covers for him to place Crowley in the bed.

The demon was shuddering, and he started to cough again, the effort wracking his frail body.

Mr. Morris pressed his lips into a thin line. "What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know, I fear he's been poisoned or something," Aziraphale said, pulling Crowley's filthy jacket off with Mr. Morris's help, while the demon protested, shivering more insistently. He checked the wound again and saw the red trailing from it went all the way down to Crowley's chest.

Mrs. Morris came into the room with a bowl and some cloths.

"I'll need something to make a poultice to draw poison," Aziraphale told her, getting up. "If you can watch him for a moment…"

"I'll get it, tell me what you need," Mr. Morris said.

"Oh, you really don't have to…"

"Mr. Crowley saved our daughter, I believe we can do this," Mr. Morris said firmly.

"Are you sure we shouldn't call a doctor?" Mrs. Morris asked.

Aziraphale shook his head, obviously if this was something that could harm a demon, there was nothing a regular doctor could do. "I know enough to be able to help, and if not…then a doctor isn't going to help." He really didn't want to think of that possibility but it was, nevertheless, a possibility.

Aziraphale quickly made a list and handed it to Mr. Morris who hurried out.

Aziraphale and Mrs. Morris washed the street filth from Crowley while he shivered and coughed. The whole time Cloud sat there, large blue eyes on the demon, whining every once in a while.

"Mama, what's going on?" Lucy asked as she peeked into the door and gasped. "Cloud!"

She raced inside and threw her arms around the dog who barked happily and licked her face.

"You found him!" she cried happily to Aziraphale before she looked past him and saw Crowley in the bed. "Oh… is that Mr. Crowley? Is he sick?"

Her mother turned to her and put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her away from the bed. "He is sick, we're trying to take care of him. Why don't you take Cloud down to wash him off and feed him?"

Lucy nodded before turning to Aziraphale. "Thank you, Mr. Fell. And I hope your friend is better soon!"

Aziraphale smiled gently at her. "I hope so too, Miss Lucy."

"Come on, Cloud!" she called.

The dog looked over at her, but then turned back to Crowley, placing his chin on the bed. Lucy frowned. "Cloud, come on, let's go eat!"

The dog still didn't move, only whining, and leaning further to lick Crowley's cheek.

"Why won't he come?" Lucy asked, confused.

Aziraphale looked between the girl and the dog. "I think he feels protective of Mr. Crowley. I found Cloud watching over him."

"Oh," Lucy said, then, "He can stay then. If it will make Mr. Crowley feel better, then I don't mind."

Aziraphale felt his heart warm at that, and smiled. "I'm sure Mr. Crowley would appreciate it, Lucy."

"You can still get him cleaned up and fed here though," her mother said.

Lucy nodded and ran off to get some food and cloths. Aziraphale sobered and turned back to Crowley who was stirring, eyes fluttering before he started on a terrible coughing fit.

Aziraphale propped him up as Crowley clutched at his throat, looking desperate for breath.

"Easy, dear," Aziraphale said gently.

"Guhhh, 'Zira…" Crowley croaked, shivering in his arms and gripping his throat.

"Shh, just breathe," Aziraphale coaxed.

"Poison…"

"I know, I'm going to work on that in a minute," Aziraphale said. He really wished he could just draw it out with a miracle, heal Crowley, but even if that was a physical possibility, it would be hard to explain to Heaven why he had needed a miracle to heal a demon. They were already in enough danger with their Arrangement, he didn't need to make it worse.

Thankfully it wasn't too long before Mr. Morris came back with the herbs Aziraphale needed and he quickly made the poultice and applied it to the wound, hoping it wasn't too far gone. He had no idea how long Crowley was lying out there, though he suspected it was at least three days. He still didn't know how Cloud had found the demon either, but the dog seemed to refuse to leave Crowley's side.

The first night was incredibly long and draining. Crowley could not seem to settle. He didn't have a fever, but he shivered constantly, seeming unable to get warm, despite all the blankets piled on top of him, as many extras as Mrs. Morris had. Aziraphale changed out the poultice every other hour, and it seemed to be working at least a little to draw the poison out, even though he didn't see much physical improvement for Crowley.

In fact, his cough had just seemed to get worse, becoming nearly constant. Aziraphale did what he could, offering warm tea and honey, but Crowley's throat seemed to hurt too much to drink more than a few sips.

After one particularly vicious bout of coughing, Crowley started to sob breathlessly, clutching his side.

"What's wrong?" Aziraphale asked, reaching out worriedly.

Crowley whimpered and choked out, "Ribs."

Aziraphale bit his lip, gently soothing Crowley by rubbing his back and shoulders. He'd obviously coughed so much that he'd broken a rib which just made this whole situation worse, and made Aziraphale more determined to get Crowley better as soon as possible.

He was shivering so violently, huddling under the blankets. "S-so cold, angel," he whispered.

"I'm sorry, Crowley, I don't know what else to do. I might be able to heat some bricks…"

Cloud, who had still refused to leave Crowley's bedside, yipped softly and jumped onto the bed. Aziraphale was about the scold the animal, but the dog snuggled down next to the demon, burrowing under the blankets close to Crowley's side.

The demon seemed only a little surprised to see the dog there, and closed his eyes again with a light cough that brought another grimace of pain to his face.

Cloud rested his chin on Crowley's shoulder and stayed there, waiting anxiously as the demon's breathing evened out for the moment.

Aziraphale reached over to pet the dog's head. "Good boy, Cloud," he murmured.

The dog exhaled and snuggled closer to Crowley, insulating him with his thick fur.

The next few days were touch-and-go, Crowley was still immensely sick, the coughing fits and the chills persistent. Aziraphale gave him everything he could think of that might help and thankfully the poultice seemed to have done some good against the poison.

It just needed time to wear off, he supposed.

And it did, eventually. After several long days, Crowley was able to sleep for longer without being interrupted by coughing fits, and a few days after that, he could sit up and eat the nourishing soup that Mrs. Morris and Lucy brought for him and Aziraphale both. And Cloud as well, who still hadn't left Crowley's side through the entire ordeal, even for the love of his young mistress.

Crowley seemed just as baffled by the dog when he could stay awake enough to marvel at the animal's loyalty.

"I just don't get it," he said to Aziraphale, voice rough from all the coughing. "He just showed up and then refused to leave after I got poisoned."

"Animals are like that sometimes," Aziraphale said with a small baffled smile as he reached out and petted the dog. "But I do believe that there was a greater reason he found you. If he hadn't, why, I probably never would have found you. I didn't even know you were in the city!"

"Ngh," Crowley murmured looking uncomfortable. "Problem is, I don't know if that demon is still out there or if the wound I gave him was fatal."

"I haven't seen any disturbance," Aziraphale assured him. "If he were still alive, I am sure Heaven would have sent me to deal with it since I was already here."

Crowley relaxed a little more and looked tired. Cloud yawned and leapt up onto the bed at his feet, settling down, obviously thinking it was naptime. Crowley rolled his eyes but didn't protest.

Aziraphale smiled as he left the demon and the dog to sleep, glad Crowley was feeling a little better.

It was another week before Crowley was well enough to consider leaving and Aziraphale also decided to take his leave of the inn.

Lucy and her parents stood in the doorway to bid them farewell, Cloud standing beside the little girl. Crowley stopped on the way out and his eyes portrayed the sadness he obviously felt for parting with the dog. Aziraphale bit his lip as he saw it. He'd never thought Crowley cared much for animals, especially horses, but he could tell the demon had gotten terribly attached to the dog, and it would hurt to leave him and the Morrises.

"You know, for a mutt, you aren't too bad," Crowley told the fluffy dog who yipped and leapt onto his hind feet to lick Crowley's face. The demon grumbled but wrapped his arms around the dog in an embrace as well.

"You have to come visit us again," Lucy said. "Cloud will miss you!"

"We'll miss him too," Aziraphale told her fondly. "And I'm sure we'll be back at some point."

They bid the family farewell and got into the waiting coach that would take them to the train station.

As they climbed inside, Aziraphale glanced over at Crowley and saw him looking out the window, staring back toward the inn and the little girl waving to him as the fluffy white dog capered around her. He sighed.

"I'm sorry you had to leave, Crowley," Aziraphale told him kindly.

The demon stiffened and turned around. "It's fine. Obviously."

Aziraphale shot him a knowing look, but reached for his bag where he had something he'd made in anticipation for Crowley leaving. He might not have been able to miracle Crowley better, but he could miracle a gift for him. He pulled out the package and set it on the demon's lap.

"What's this?" Crowley asked.

"Open it," Aziraphale insisted.

Crowley did and discovered a large, fluffy, white blanket, plush and warm.

"What is this, angel?" he demanded, fingers digging into it.

"I wanted to give you something to remind you of Cloud. And you're always so cold…it's a miracle blanket. You'll never be cold when you use it."

Crowley looked at it for a long moment, and Aziraphale thought he saw a shine behind his glasses before he sniffed deeply and said. "Thank you, angel."

Aziraphale smiled. "You're welcome, dear."

The two were silent until they parted ways at the train station, Aziraphale going on his way, leaving Crowley with the blanket to remind him of the good friends he had.