Disclaimer: I don't own anything, everything belongs to those wonderful angels/demons named Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett (R.I.P. :'( )
Hello, people, this is a very weird idea that crossed my mind and I decided to turn it into a fanfic… ^^'
There's a beautiful Italian song by Tiziano Ferro called 'L'ultima notte al mondo' = 'The last night in the world' which inspired this fic A LOT , I'll put both Italian and translated lyrics okay? ;)
Last but not least: I need a beta, anyone offers? ^^'
Summary: If I really fell in love it would be only you, the last night in the world, I would spend it with you.
Switch
Crowley and Aziraphale watch that odd International Express Delivery man go away. He's just one of the many victims who now came back to life after The-Apocalypse-That-Never-Was.
Aziraphale is watching him also with a tiny hint of rancor: damn this man's fussiness! He has taken his sword away. Again! Aziraphale was so close to get it back once for all.
On the other hand, he also thinks he'll never need such a powerful weapon again. Perhaps.
Something tells him that even if the world didn't end, it's not over yet. Maybe even worst things still have to come.
Also Crowley thinks so, while he's tossing in his hands the strip of paper with the last nice and accurate Agnes Nutter's prophecy.
Ye must choose your faces wisely for soon enough you will be playing with fire.
What the heck does it mean?
As he's busting his brains over that issue, he recalls the delivery man and his short but meaningful speech.
He has a wife to get home to, he has someone who is waiting for him, someone who will be surely happy to see him again.
What about Crowley? Who does he have?
Well, sure, he's got an angel who he managed to persuade to stay at his place, for that night, only telling him the truth.
They have no bosses anymore. They have no more factions to fight for, save for their own faction. The two of them against the universe.
It's something that should make them feel unstoppable, unwinnable, happy and united as never before.
Instead, both of them feel like there's an invisible but also unbreakable wall between them.
And they feel cold, so much cold.
Although it's a late summer night, although they have drunk a lot of wine, sharing the same bottle, sipping from the very same spot.
Because, after six thousand years, you definitely reach this kind of confidence.
From afar, they see the unaware bus arriving. It's heading towards Oxford and the bus driver doesn't know yet that he's going to take them to London.
They get in and Aziraphale slides close to Crowley's seat, skimming him.
And yet the closeness of their human bodies doesn't coincide with the one of their minds and even less with the one of their hearts.
A blanket of frost wraps them. The cold is so intense that, even if there's not anything like that, they both seem to see copious snowflakes falling on the ground, cancelling everything they touch.
(Cade la neve ed io non capisco)
Snow is falling and I don't know
(Che sento davvero, mi arrendo)
What I really feel, I give up,
(Ogni riferimento è andato via)
Every reference is gone...
(Svaniti i marciapiedi e le case e colline)
Footpaths, houses and hills have disappeared...
(Sembrava bello ieri )
It looked good yesterday.
(Ed io, io sepolto dal suo bianco, mi specchio)
And I, buried under its whiteness, I see myself in the mirror
(E non so più che cosa sto guardando)
and I don't know what I'm looking at anymore.
Even after six thousand years, Crowley remembers their first meeting as if it was yesterday. The very first meeting with his angel, the way he immediately behaved so kindly towards him, the way he didn't like submitting to rules, not when they interfered with other people's good.
And he perfectly remembers his smile. So clumsy. So awkward. So shy. So incredibly genuine.
(Ho incontrato il tuo sorriso dolce)
I've met your sweet smile,
(Con questa neve bianca, adesso mi sconvolge)
Now it upsets me along with this white snow,
(La neve cade e cade pure il mondo)
Snow is falling and the world is falling too,
(Anche se non è freddo adesso quello che sento)
Even if it's not cold what I feel now,
(E ricordati, ricordami)
And remember, remember me:
(Tutto questo coraggio non è neve)
All this courage isn't snow.
(E non si scioglie mai, neanche se deve)
And it never melts, even if it should.
When they first met, there wasn't snow, there was rain. The very first day ever of rain. Crowley was so impressed when he realized that something was preventing him from getting wet and turning he found out it was Aziraphale's wing.
He would never expect such a thing from an angel, even less from a Principality.
Aziraphale has always been the exception that confirms the rule.
But Crowley has never found the courage to say all these things to his angel, to tell him what he means to him, how he makes him feel.
He had always covered his feelings with playful flirts that the angel has not ever truly understood.
"Okay, the bus driver was supposed not to realize that, but at least you should notice that we arrived to your house." the angel's gentle voice takes his mind off.
Well, his words haven't been so gentle after all; with that necessity to point out 'your house'.
Can't it simply be 'home' for them both?
"You're right. Let's get off." Crowley shrugs, showing him the way.
It's funny how, after all the visits and raids to Aziraphale's bookshop, this is the first time Crowley shows him his house.
It's not that many people has seen that place and certainly Crowley can't consider himself the most welcoming host: about the last two individuals who stepped into his house… one has remained stuck on the floor, inside an unpleasant black stain he has not managed to remove yet. Not that he's so willing to approach to that spot, there could still be some drops of holy water.
Aziraphale follows the demon in deep silence, observing every corner of that apartment.
It feels like a cozy place after all, despite all those dark colors of the walls and the floors. There's just some dark red furniture such as Crowley's elegant armchair and the marble table.
Aziraphale has been particularly fascinated by a spinning wall that hides the large room where Crowley keeps his marvelous and inestimable collection of luxuriant plants.
Ultimately, Aziraphale considers that that place has been decorated with a very good test and a lot of style.
After all, Style could be Crowley's second name. Or rather the fourth one. First there's Anthony, followed by that J.
Aziraphale must be honest with himself: he has always liked Crowley's eccentricity.
Eccentric was the way he appeared to him, removing the snake disguise and chatting him up so naturally. Not even the other angels have ever acted with the Principality like that.
Eccentric was the deal that more than once Crowley has suggested to him and Aziraphale more than once rejected, among quarrels, before finally accepting it.
Pretending to neutralize each other has only brought them closer, year after year, century after century and millennium after millennium.
Eccentric was his proposal to save the world with the angel.
Even more eccentric is the fact that they actually succeeded.
Eccentric is his behavior, so gentle, but only towards him.
How many things has Crowley done for him? How many times did he rescue him? How many times did he come back to him, with a smile and a peace offering, after Aziraphale had pushed him away in the most unpleasant ways?
(Cose che spesso si dicono improvvisando)
Things which are often said improvising:
(Se mi innamorassi davvero saresti solo tu)
If I really fell in love it would be only you,
(L'ultima notte al mondo, io la passerei con te)
The last night in the world, I would spend it with you
(Mentre felice piango)
While I weep tears of joy
(E solo io, io posso capire al mondo)
And I'm the only one, the only one who's able to understand
(Quanto è inutile odiarsi nel profondo!)
How much it's useless to hate each other deeply in this world!
He told Crowley that they were hereditary enemies, he has called him 'foul fiend'(even if, immediately after that, Aziraphale has showed him the sweetest smile ever), he stated that they were from opposite factions… once Aziraphale has brought himself to tell him he doesn't even like him! How could such an unexpectedly good demon bear him again after all Aziraphale has put him through?
Truth is that Aziraphale has kept pushing Crowley away only due to fear. Fear of love.
Because Aziraphale is sure he's been in love with Crowley since that night in 1941 when, even burning his feet a little, Crowley has rescued both him and his precious books.
But if Aziraphale thinks better, maybe he already loved Crowley when he rescued him from the guillotine.
Or maybe when Aziraphale has tried to tempt him to eat oysters, stealing that job that was supposed to be the demon's one? And the amused way Crowley has been staring at him all the time… oh, Aziraphale recalls that very well.
Or maybe did Aziraphale love him when he saw him so shocked, mostly due to the kids issue, during the Great Flood?
Nope. Probably Aziraphale has already been in love with him since Crowley – Well, Crawly back to those days -has stared at him in such an amazed way after Aziraphale confessed that he has given his flaming sword away? He still can easily recall how the demon has opened wide his big, bright yellow, snake eyes. Aziraphale has such a soft spot for his eyes.
Aziraphale has a very bad feeling about Crowley and he's afraid that that could be the last night they can spend together.
Does he really want to spend it in that way? Among heavy silences and unspoken things?
"Do you want wine, angel?" the demon offers, opening a closet.
"Crowley, I'm afraid for you!" he almost shouts, startling the demon.
"So am I, for you!" the other strikes back, without a second thought.
Aziraphale stares at him puzzled.
"For me? Why? Okay, maybe there will be a little punishment, but nothing so tragic!" he tries to reassure him, but he can't take his mind off the last events of those days, when Uriel and Sandalphon attacked him outside his bookshop, so easily, without any remorse.
Maybe, after all, the good ones are not so good as he has always believed.
"I wouldn't be so sure, angel. We screwed it up this time. I'm afraid that you won't get away with it only with a demerit. Not this time."
Crowley is staring at him deeply, without his sunglasses, because with his angel he can be utterly and freely himself.
"It's you who could go through a lot! Your people, they're hard nuts up, there. They won't stop at nothing! I'm so scared that they could cross the line with you!" Aziraphale tries to warn him.
"You know what? I also fear that they could save for me the same treatment I gave to Ligur…" Crowley grumbles, pointing at the entrance.
"I don't even want to see that damn thing!" Aziraphale snaps, making the rest of the killed demon go away with a nervous gesture of his arm.
"Thank you. I was so sick of seeing that!" Crowley tries to defuse the situation, but fails.
"I can't allow them to do such a thing. I would never ever forgive me for that." the angel shouts desperate, holding his head in his hands.
Crowley approaches to him, attempting to pat his shoulder.
"There, there, angel, don't act this way. You'll see, I'll get away with it…" he murmurs, but he's the first one to have serious doubts about that.
Aziraphale bursts out crying.
"This is so unfair! There must be a way to stop them! Oh, Crowley, if only I could go there, instead of you… holy water would be only a pleasure to me…" he rants, before reflecting on what he has just said.
And Crowley is doing the same.
Like a thunderbolt, realization hits them both and they stare at each other with such a complicity that can only increase after all those millenniums.
"Choose your faces …" Crowley recites that prophecy out loud.
"Wisely." Aziraphale adds, feeling as hopeful as never before. "That's what we must do."
There's still something that doesn't convince Crowley. That prophecy mentioned even something about playing with fire… and they're talking about holy water… but maybe it's only because Agnes has always loved to be so impossibly enigmatic.
"So, how do you think we should get it done, angel?" he wonders, puzzled.
"I have no idea, darling. I've never done such a thing before…" Aziraphale grumbles but he still looks very determined. "I think… I think it's enough to touch each other, like this!" he goes on, grabbing the demon's hand. "That's it. Now, close your eyes and wish you could be me the way I wish I could be you!" he tries to instruct him.
Crowley trusts him. The two creatures concentrate deeply on that miracle and even before opening their eyes, they can feel some fluids and energy pass through each other.
They stare at each other satisfied, because each one can see himself.
"It worked." Crowley smiles but he does that with the angel's features and Aziraphale stares intently at him.
Is it really so tender the way he smiles at Crowley every time? No wonder the demon has always searched for his company, then!
Crowley watches amused his same own expression so dazed. He can't help wondering how many time he showed his angel such a face.
"Speak to me with my voice. I've already tried to do that with yours and it feels so cool." Crowley murmurs.
Aziraphale pleases him, but not to say something affectionate.
"There's no time for games, Crowley!" Aziraphale grows nervous.
Because, that's true, that may be a neat trick; but the risk to take is too big and that could still really be the last night he'll spend with Crowley. The very last night he sees him.
"So do I really sound like that when I grow nervous?" Crowley giggles.
He's always been the less rational of the two of them, that's why he's still so entertained by the whole situation.
"Please, dear, can we sit down?" the angel asks him, with a more placid tone, while he looks for something that can be like a sofa, but the most proper thing seems to be the golden and red armchair.
Crowley obeys, sitting in first. Taking advantage of his actual body that makes him feel very much lighter, Aziraphale sits on the demon's legs, with a snake-like grace, passing his arm around Crowley's neck in order to balance himself better.
"Why haven't' I sit down like this for all this time?" the demon with the angel's features whispers to him, without even trying to hide how much he's enjoying that.
And maybe is in that so encouraging look of Crowley's that Aziraphale finds the necessary motivation.
"I know, dear, I've been saying or all these centuries that you and I fraternize…" Aziraphale starts his speech and Crowley makes an annoyed face hearing that so unpleasant word, but Aziraphale does not lose his determination
"But have you ever searched the meaning of that verb in a dictionary, in my dictionary?"
Saying that, the angel with the demon's features makes a dictionary appear, flipping through the pages until he almost reaches the end of the 'F' session.
When he finds the verb 'Fraternize' he adds a blank space under the previous definitions, in order to write his own.
He licks his index and a little spark comes out and with that he writes his sentences with flaming letters that don't make the dictionary burn for real.
"Wow, writing with fire is such a cool experience!" the angel giggles, before reprimanding himself. "Oops, I'm not supposed to talk like this … that's what I get for being in your body!" he pretends to complain, making Crowley laugh, but that laughter dies in his throat when he reads that definition:
Fraternize: To do everything in your power in order to spend as much time as possible with that only one person (or supernatural entity, if you prefer) who understands you better than anyone else, who makes your days better, who makes you feel complete, who makes you feel lost if he's missing, because he has become your world.
Crowley rereads it several times, before staring at his angel.
There are tears that are falling from the demon's now cerulean blue eyes.
Without even waiting for his consent, Crowley pushes himself against Aziraphale, for a fleeting kiss that has only the task of test the waters.
Aziraphale looks at him with his now golden amber eyes widened out, with dilated snake pupils.
He would expect every reaction from Crowley but not a kiss.
TBC
Get ready for the last (and hottest) part ;)
I really hope you like it. Usually I write much funnier stuff, also because I'm not that good with introspection ^^' but this fic popped in my head that way so… I've just tried.
I hope it won't sound too confusing, especially in next part, also Italian readers said they had some trouble during some parts, lol ^^'
Did I ever say I need a beta, didn't I?
Whatever you think, feel free to tell me, please.