At this point in time, Aziraphale had been discorporated three times. The first was before the flood when he accidentally got in the middle of a pedophile ring and attempted to free children. It didn't go too well and he soon found himself being beat to death with the end of a palm branch.
The second time was also before the flood and was over a mango for which he was being ripped off for. Haggling was not one of his best skills and as a result, ended up having his neck snapped. He was too polite for his own good and Crawly would almost undoubtedly agree with that sentiment.
The third time was when he tried to stop two different races from killing each other shortly after the tower of babel fiasco to which they responded by decapitating him with a newly engineered sword brought to you by War.
Surprisingly enough the archangels did not give a flying flip over angels being discorported. Sure the paperwork was a pain in the butt but Aziraphale had the same body back and was quite pleased with that.
Being discorporated was not a pleasant experience to say the least though. It hurt very much getting your head cut off or being beat into discorporation but it soon was over and he would find himself opening his eyes in the cold clean air of Heaven and to the face of a less than happy angel desk clerk. To be fair if Aziraphale had that job he would assume he would not display the most angelic qualities either.
He began to peel open his eyes and come up with a defense for why his corporation was at the bottom of a pit in China with the other scholars the emperor had put to Death when he realized he was not in Heaven. He was not at the bottom of a pit full of rotting corpses either. He was lying in a bed and by gazing around saw he was in a rural part of China. The room was almost completely stripped of any decor save for a very angry looking poster of some Chinese goddess who looked as though she would come out of the painting and steal his soul. He had to look away. Those eyes were just too creepy.
His head had an annoying ringing in the back of it as he attempted to recall what little information he remembered from how he had gotten into this situation. Oh yeah. David forced another census and Gabriel told him to make himself scarce as to not screw up the report. He decided to go to China because how could an angel attracted to the intelligent intricacies of humans resist philosophies and scrolls of knowledge only to find himself face to face with an intelligence purge. Scrolls and books were being burned. People being thrown into pits and buried alive. And what had Aziraphale done? Run straight into the path of danger like an idiot and found himself being shoved into a pit of screaming humans and closing his eyes as the dirt began to pile upon him. In his defense, they were stabbing a guy to death after he tried to prevent them from burning down a school of thought and Aziraphale tried to save both the man and the school. Needless to say, he had bruised after the man vigorously beat him up. Aziraphale was used to this by now as humans could be quite violent when they put their minds to it. He also remembered breaking his corporation's arm on the way down to the bottom of the pit. Falling without being able to use his wings as to not expose the angelic realm and have the archangels beyond angry with him was among one of the scariest feelings he had experienced on Earth. Worse part was he didn't even know what the archangels would do if they found out he disobeyed. It had never happened before. Outside of minor infractions of course. But how did he get here?
He looked down to see all his injuries were healed and lifted a hand to touch his face to see his bruises were healed. Even the black eye he received was gone. This was definitely the demonic work of Crawly. Aziraphale would have had a harder time believing an angel coming to his aide and a mortal man could not heal his injuries like this. It had to be Crawly.
As if on cue Crawly came around the corner bearing a tray of tea and swaggered over to the bed. Why he felt the need to move his hips around like that was beyond Aziraphale because once he looked it was very hard to look away. There was something enchanting about them. Crawly had his red curls up in a tight Chinese style bun upon the top of his head and he was wearing merchant black robes common in this area. He was wearing the same sandals since Noah's ark. Aziraphale never noticed that until now.
"Glad to see your up. Want some tea? I also put some different veggies and fruits I got from the market this morning. Here in the rural parts, they aren't as crazy as in the cities." He said and put the tray in front of the angel.
"Oh yes, dear boy thank you."
"Don't say that angel. We've been over this a million times."
"Right. I apologize-"
"Don't say that either."
"Well, then what should I say?"
"Nothing. Just drink the damn tea." Crawly sighed overdramatically and rolled his eyes. Aziraphale forgot how annoying his antics could be but found them somewhat charming in a weird sort of way.
Crawly watched as Aziraphale drank the tea and ate the fruits and veggies. They all had different flavors and Aziraphale sighed happily into the sweetness of the fruits and munched happily at the vegetables. There was also rice he had way too much fun using his hands to eat with. Crawly did this on purpose because watching all the ways the angel ate was entertainment that could last him ten years. Once he was finished Crawly watched him lick his fingers clean before standing up and sitting on the edge of the bed.
"FInished?"
"Oh yes. It was very delicious. Thank you-erm-not-where did you say you got these purple vegetables? What were they called?"
"Eggplants. So I am glad you enjoyed it but there is something else we need to address right now."
"Oh really? And what would that be?"
Crawly deemener changed to a posture and facial expression that would give most men nightmares but Aziraphale was beyond the point of thinking Crawly was about to attack him.
"WHAT IN SOMEONE'S NAME WERE YOU DOING IN CHINA IN THE MIDDLE OF A GENOCIDE?" The yelling did take Aziraphale aback a bit.
"Well you see funny story-"
"I honestly don't want to hear it."
"But there was a man being beaten to death. What was I supposed to do? Just stand there and let it happen."
"Aziraphale you are paler than sand. People around here don't like foreigners or anyone differnet or anyone who is going to challenge their way of thinking. All three of which you are grouped under. You basically should paint a target on your back and walk around saying 'stab me.'"
"Oh please. Your hair isn't a shade too common around here now is it?"
"Snake eyes remember? People stay the fuck away when they think I am a demon from Hell who will curse their farms if they look at me the wrong way."
"But you are a demon?"
"That's not the point. I don't go around cursing farms. That bitch Pollution or Pestilance or whatever the fuck she calls herself does enough of that. So does that other motherfucker what's his name?"
"Famine?"
"Yeah, that's it. I don't want to be ever associated with those fools."
"What is this personal vendetta you seem to have with Pestilence? You mentioned it when you were Jephthah at the well. "
"Look around angel. Why do you think?"
"The punishment for sin..."
"Don't get started on that. Please. I am actually begging you."
"Alright, I won't. I suppose it goes into our little understanding between us."
"Glad to hear it. So what's been in your head to make you think that running straight into danger was a good idea? With absolutely no backup plan or way to protect yourself? And don't fake stupidity because I know that is not true considering the first thing you do anytime you set foot anywhere you run to the scrolls and places of knowledge like a complete and total loser."
"First off knowledge is not for losers. You love Athens. Compare Sparta and Athens and you tell me where you would rather spend your time and don't even bother because I know the answer. All your little drinks and whatever else you enjoy getting a groove on with is all thanks to scholars who helped make that kind of social and political structure possible in the first place. Well, Gabriel says that it is not our job to get involved with human atrocities unless the Metatron explicitly gives orders to do otherwise according to the Great Plan-"
"Wait. Stop. Who is the Metatron?"
Aziraphale looked up at Crawly with an insulted face.
"Oh please. You were an angel once. Metatron is the voice of God. They were around before all of us angels were. Even before Lucifer. Or Satan as he calls himself now. Do-do you really not remember?"
Crawly scooted closer to Aziraphale and let his legs hang off the bed. He stared at that creepy painting and thought for a long moment while playing with a red curl that had fallen from his bun. This wasn't the first time Aziraphale had brought up something throughout their friendship-but-not-really-because-we-are-on-different-sides thing they had going. Whenever he brought up the archangels it didn't ring any bells. Even Micheal was becoming nothing more than a strained image in his mind when a few years ago he could picture her angelic smut vividly. It was strange, to say the least. He didn't even feel anger towards them. Why should he? He couldn't remember them. He couldn't even remember what his job in Heaven was now. Just little flashes. He remembered building nebulas and how happy it made him feel. And falling. Falling and burning and all the pain in brought. He remembered someone stabbing him with a flaming sword and looking into his eyes with such discard and hatred but yet he only remembered their eyes. He couldn't remember the name or even the entire face. He remembered arriving in Hell but very little before that. It was convient because if he rebelled he must have hated it. Perhaps the food was bad. Was there in even food in Heaven? It would explain why Aziraphale enjoyed it so much. Or was that just a lower angel thing? And besides why did he care? That was his old life. No matter what side he was on he didn't have free will so it sucked either way. Plus all the lives he had been able to save by knowing what other demons were helping bring about although the humans had shown they were more than capable
He turned to Aziraphale and shrugged. "I guess I don't. Can't even recall what they look like."
Aziraphale tilted his head genuine concern and curiosity flooding into his blue specks. "Well that is rather odd, isn't it? I can remember everything from Heaven and Earth."
"Must be a fallen angel thing."
"Well, the Hellfire Baptism did change your DNA."
Out of all the things why in somebody's name did he have to bring that up? Crawly skin felt-well -crawly. He felt as though there was Hellfire churning inside him and threatening to erupt like a massive volcano. He remembered that part vividly. How horrendous was Heaven that his mind was literally blocking out entire pieces of his past? He was taken out of the traumatic experience by a soft hand coming to rest gently upon his shoulder and instantly jumped up the touch startling him. The desire to change the subject suddenly became first priority.
"So what was an angel like you doing in China anyways? Aren't you supposed to be monitoring David or some shit?"
"Well I was but then he decreed a census and Gabriel thought it best I leave as to not ruin the counting. He wants to make sure I don't ruin any would be paperwork for the angels."
Crawly's mind was stuck on the idea that there was a census and they didn't hang out like they did the other censuses. Why did Aziraphale come here to be a book worm rather than want to spend time with him? This felt like clue 107 of the angel sending him every hint he secretly wanted Crawly to be stationed as far away from him as geographically possible. His throat dried at the thought and he swallowed hard.
But this couldn't be true, could it? Aziraphale would have said something. They both spoke their minds. Or to what they could speak their minds about. But then again Aziraphale was an angel who felt guilty over fighting a demon who was an actual threat to humans and hated conflict and would avoid it at any cost. Or perhaps Crawly was just overthinking this entire thing and Aziraphale was just being a nerd. What else was new?
Aziraphale looked out the window and sighed when he realized the time.
"Unfortunately my dear I have used up all my free time for the time being. I must be getting back to Isreal. King David has a lot of plans underway to restore Isreal to its former glory and I must be there to oversee and you understand how it goes. Assignments and blessings and angelic guidance and whatnot." He slowly got up from the bed and Crawly found himself blushing when he realized he was awkwardly staring. He quickly rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous tick picked up from centuries of tortuous conditions in Hell and nodded.
"Yeah. I guess I'll see you when I see you."
Aziraphale paused and found interest in a spider web in the corner in order to avoid Crawly's disappointed gaze. "Well if time permits sure. But I don't think you should come back with me to Isreal."
Crawly saw that familiar deemener of the nervous-doing-something-that-may-be-against-angelic-policy-but-I-am-a-soft-angel-with-a-good-heart look. "I wasn't planning on it but whyever not angel? Considering the fact you seem to be following your heart rather than your head and almost losing it in the process should be indication enough that you may need a watchful eye."
"Well, you see David is no longer King of Isreal. His son Solomon is now. New preparations for building the temple are underway as we speak. The priesthood is being prepared and the divisions of the Levites has started. There are sanctuary singers, gatekeepers and treasures being set up. Isreal is expanding and the government is changing."
"I see. And that means..."
"Sacred ground. Consecrated ground. Yes."
"God wants to dwell among the people again. Up close and personal. Why?"
Aziraphale just shook his head. "I have said too much already. The point is whatever you do don't go to Isreal. Don't even come close. If any angelic power felt a demonic presence I could be to blame and I rather enjoy Earth and won't want to be recalled back to Heaven over something as ridiculous as that."
Well, that settled it. They weren't friends after all. Damn. For an angel, Aziraphale could always manage to tear down his self-esteem faster than a pack of wolves with his backhanded holier than thou comments. Worse yet Aziraphale went on his merry way as though nothing had happened. But then again why should Aziraphale care if he hurt Crawly's feelings? Crawly was a demon and demon weren't supposed to get attached and it certainly wasn't Aziraphale's fault for his failure at being the least bit competent in his demonic duties. Crawly decided to do the one thing he always did when dealing with emotions beyond his comprehension or ability to deal with. Sleep. For a hundred hours or a hundred years. Who knows and honestly who cared at that point. Clearly not Aziraphale.