"When all the worst we fear let's fall its weight,
When the gyre widens on and when the wave breaks,
When St. Peter loses cool and bars the gates,
When Atlas acts the maggot, makes his arms shake,
When the birds are heard again in their singing,
Once atrocity is hoarse from voicing shame,
And when the earth is trembling on some new beginning,
With the same sweet shock of when Adam first came,
…
Be as you've always been."
- "Be," Hozier.
Crawley's disbelief that God would kill all of them in a great flood soon evaporated. This was the same deity that threw him from Heaven just for asking questions, the very same one that expelled Adam and Eve from Eden for knowing the difference between good and evil. After so many years of working minor temptations on humanity, Crawley was not surprised that She had finally lost her temper.
But it just didn't seem fair. After the angel explained to him that Noah's family would restart the blood line for Mesopotamia, excluding the Australians, Native Americans, and Chinese, Crawley was a little dumbfounded how other people's random children managed to incur God's wrath. Surely not all of them could be that bad. What made Noah so special?
Of course, this line of thinking was the same kind that got Crawley where he was now, so he didn't say any of this aloud to the angel. He didn't have to anyway. It seemed the angel knew exactly how skeptical he was, already shaming him for it. But under Crawley 's observations, he could tell that the angel wasn't exactly happy with the flooding situation either. Aziraphale was just too cowardly to say otherwise, to try and save any of the people surrounding them now from eminent destruction, even as the children swept past their robes, playing and laughing among themselves. Crawley was a little disappointed in Aziraphale's obedience, especially after he gifted humanity that flaming sword. But perhaps, he didn't want to push his luck with the Almighty. Crawley couldn't blame him for that.
Once it started to rain, an ominous thunder rolling along the gathering black clouds on the horizon, Crawley suddenly realized that he had nowhere to go. "Oh, the flood is going to start now?" He asked, voice a little too high pitched for the question to come off casually.
Anxiously watching the Ark in the distance, Aziraphale nodded vigorously. "Yes, as soon as all the animals are on board. Today is the day." He bit his lip, and Crawley watched the movement as passively as he could manage, which is to say, not at all. "It's a shame about the unicorns. They were always my favorite."
"I thought the humans were your favorite? You being an angel and all."
No one around them was paying attention, too busy marveling at the rain. It had been dry for so long.
"Of course, I love humanity, but they aren't animals," Aziraphale answered him, distracted from his anxiety as he slipped into annoyance.
Crawley smirked to himself. "Sure, they're not." Not like I am, Crawley thought. His golden snake-eyes flickered back to the Ark, and Aziraphale tracked the movement.
"Oh, oh, you can't be considering hiding on there?" Aziraphale squeaked, aghast. Crawley secretly delighted at the noise.
"Well, I don't exactly have time to get all the way to China, now do I, angel?"
"Well, I can't allow you to! You'll cause trouble." He started flapping his hands, looking exactly like a very plump chicken, feathers rustled and all. "Can't you just…well," he looked meaningfully at the ground where the dust and sand were starting to get packed down by the steadily increasing rainfall.
"You want me to go to Hell, is that it, angel?" Crawley raised his eyebrows at him. "That's a little rude for your bunch, innit?"
Aziraphale held his fingers delicately in front of his mouth. "Oh, I do apologize, but I'm just…not sure you should be on there."
"Where are you going to go, angel? Back to Heaven? For how long?"
Twiddling his fingers in front of his stomach, Aziraphale had to raise his voice to be heard over the rain. "It's only for forty days and forty nights! But um…I'll be on the boat."
"Then there should be nothing to worry about if you're there with me!"
The angel looked like he was about to argue and bring up Eden, but a crack of lightning split the sky above them, and someone in the crowd screamed. He looked back at the Ark again, eyes wide. "Fine, let's go now!" And he took Crawley's hand and ran for the Ark, their sandals flying off, stuck in the mud that stained the edges of their robes.
For forty days and forty nights, Crawley hid with the other snakes, just watching. The Ark was a menagerie, at first smelling sweet like the fresh cut wood, but soon stinking of animal waste the longer things went on. Aziraphale stayed away from the humans, giving them their privacy, but was often seasick. Crawley watched him perform a minor miracle once or twice to keep things clean for Noah's family and provide them with a little food so they didn't have to sacrifice any of the livestock. Aziraphale decidedly did not talk to Crawley as if afraid he would upset someone, either God or the humans, Crawley couldn't tell.
So, Crawley left them be, but he was glad to be someplace dry and out of Hell, however he could be. When it was all over, Crawley left without saying goodbye to Aziraphale, not directly causing any trouble. It wasn't until much later after Crawley convinced Noah to dip heavy-handedly into the wine that Crawley stirred up trouble again. He didn't know what would happen then either. He, too, had dipped into the wine, heady stuff as it was. It wasn't until afterwards that Crawley realized that wine drinking wasn't nearly as fun unless there was someone to share it with.
It wasn't for almost 3000 years later that Crawley – now Crowley – ran into Aziraphale again at a very pivotal moment in humanity. Christ's crucifixion was not a pretty sight, far from it, but Crowley felt bound to be there. He had tried to save him from dying. It was his idea that if he just convinced Jesus to not do it – to shun the title of God's only son – that he could just get away with it and lead a normal life. After all, Crowley had seen how cruel God could be to the innocent. Crowley didn't think She'd hold anything back just because she claimed Jesus as her son.
But Jesus did not listen to him. Truly, he had to be God's son because he could not be tempted to abandon humanity to more suffering. Instead, he just took it on himself. So as Crowley stood side by side with the angel to watch them kill God's son, he wondered how Aziraphale could stand to be on the side he's on so faithfully. But of course, that's why Aziraphale was the angel and Crowley was the demon.
This time was different, though, Crowley could feel it. Aziraphale didn't offer any excuses about how this was just part of the Ineffable Plan. Instead, Aziraphale defended only himself, "I'm not consulted on policy decisions."
Yes, Crowley supposed he wasn't. Just like Crowley, Aziraphale never seemed to like doing as he was asked, but he did it anyway. Such was their lot in life. They were the beings that were given freewill.
After it was all over, Crowley learned of the significance of Jesus' sacrifice once he saw the man up and walking again. He was different now, after dying, but resurrection would do that to anybody. There was something haggard on his face. Crowley was afraid to approach him, but he did, and while Jesus did recognize him, he was ambivalent about his approach. "Crowley," he greeted him neutrally.
"I'm glad to see you alive," Crowley greeted him, and he could tell that Jesus was a little surprised at Crowley's sincerity.
"You are glad," Jesus said, "but I can tell there's something bothering you. You're not happy that you failed to tempt me?"
"No, not that. You can't win them all, I suppose. With as long as I've been around, I've seen some of your lot be hardier than others. Of course, you being…well, you, I'm not surprised how it turned out."
"But?"
"But I have to wonder…you died for them. For all of them. Total strangers, the same that done to you what they did. And some of these people don't believe you and they just…well, bad things are still gonna happen," Crowley stalled, "No stopping that."
"Ask what you want to ask."
"I'm still always going to be a demon, aren't I?" Crowley knew he was selfish and stupid for asking, but he had to be sure. Again, it wasn't fair how God could keep giving their lot second chances and forgiveness when Crowley hadn't even heard from Her since he fell so long ago. "There's no hope for me? For ever getting back into Heaven?"
To his credit, Jesus looked a little sad when he answered, "I don't think so, no." Before Crowley could leave, Jesus did offer him consultation, though. He wouldn't be Jesus if he didn't. "Redemption can be found many other ways, though. Or so I heard."
"Thanks anyway," Crowley said morosely, and went on his way.
It took another eight years until he and Aziraphale ran into each other in Rome for Crowley to stop letting that bitterness eat him up inside. Aziraphale seemed just as disappointed as he was that he was still a demon, but that didn't stop the angel from immediately inviting him to lunch. Crowley would like to consider that to be the start of their friendship, and maybe something more, eventually.
And as he supped on oysters with Aziraphale, who for once wasn't as anxious or sad as he was whenever Crowley had met him before, Crowley supposed that he could find redemption in someone else's eyes if not the Almighty's. That had to be enough.
As it was, it did turn out to be enough according to the Ineffable Plan. How else would the Apocalypse get thwarted unless a demon and an angel came together to stop it? God only knows.