Hey guys, I know we are all screaming and crying and desperate for a season three that (provided it goes ahead) is years away, and gives us the happy ending that we so badly need. So I said fuck this shit I need a happy ending now (and so did thisoneslate, as I'm sure many of you have) and thus have written a little fix it scenario to give us a much happier ending to season two than we got.
This one is for me, thisoneslate (on AO3), and everyone else suffering from the devastation at the end of season two, my heart is bleeding with you all.
I hope that this will help, let me know if it did, much love xox
XOXOXOXOXOX
Crowley stormed out of the bookstore, hearing that stupid little bell jingle for what could be the very last time. The taste of his angel was still on his lips, he knew because he'd licked them subconsciously and gotten notes of earl grey, sweetness, and old books – all things that he'd never had tasted otherwise.
And yes, Aziraphale was still his angel. Things might not be forever for Aziraphale, but that didn't mean that they weren't for Crowley – broken or not.
Fighting back tears, Crowley marched across the street, cars barely missed him by inches, honking warningly, but he hardly even noticed them. Unable to focus on much else but the intoxicating taste of Aziraphale, and his mind replaying their entire conversation again and again, he almost tripped up the curb, but caught himself at the last moment.
Reaching the driver's side of the Bentley, his precious Bentley, he immediately went for the door handle, intending to drive far away from that place and keep on driving until he no longer wanted to listen to sad songs, or cry over a six millennia old friendship he'd just lost. Only he faltered, something stopping him from opening the door. Numerous times he tried to pull the handle but couldn't, he'd be suspicious of angelic or demonic interference but Crowley knew what was truly stopping him. He didn't want to leave Aziraphale – neither did the Bentley – how could he leave his angel?
What choice did he have though? Aziraphale had made his decision, even after Crowley had offered him…everything. He'd bared his heart, spoken plainly, finally addressed the elephant that had been in the room since the beginning, and…and…
He weakly kicked the tyre in frustration, as a choked sob escaped his throat. The Bentley quietly honked at him in response.
"Sorry, I'm sorry!" he told his beloved car, giving it a soothing pat.
It honked at him again and he looked up in time to see Aziraphale and Metatron exiting the bookshop together. Crowley composed himself into a stiff, but casual lean against his car, there was nothing he could do about the look of misery on his face though. At least his glasses hid the flood that was threatening to spill from his eyes – there'd surely be no rainbow after this one.
He stood very still, just watching, chest aching, and considered taking snake form and slithering off to find a patch of nature to hide away and wallow in for the next thousand years or so. Or perhaps he should go to Alpha Centauri and dust his hands of Earth.
His gaze followed the two angels all the way to the doorway to the portal to Heaven, cycling between ideas of becoming a hermit, and finding some deserving souls to torture. He knew that Aziraphale had seen him standing there, holding on to that one last thread of hope that was ready to snap the moment his angel stepped through those doors.
Aziraphale hesitated at the doors, turning that bright, earnest gaze back to Crowley, and he wished to implode on the spot; it would be better than the awful pain in his chest. The moment those eyes left him Crowley knew that was it, he'd lost his angel for good. Ready to let the flood gates open, he saw Aziraphale's mouth move, and then he blinked and his angel was on the move, hurrying across the street toward him!
He desperately tried to cut the new threads that were springing up and strengthening his hope. There could be any number of reasons that Aziraphale was coming toward him, and certainly not all of them were favourable.
"Will you truly not come with me?" the question came with a familiar pout, one that usually made Crowley give in to whatever his angel wanted.
"No, Angel, I've made my position quite clear…and you…" he looked anywhere but at the angel he loved, and cleared his throat, "you've done the same."
"But, we could fix everything, Crowley, you and me, like always…" Aziraphale tried to explain.
Crowley shook his head, exasperated, "You would trust them, after everything?"
"Well, not exactly, but I would trust you," Aziraphale stated, eyes pleading.
"I will never return to Heaven, Aziraphale, I don't want to be an angel again, I don't want anything to do with those feathery assholes, or that place," he sighed heavily, the fight leaving his voice as he said, "the only thing I want is you, us."
"But-"
"You're not listening! If you want to re-join Heaven so badly, I can't stop you, but you can be damn sure that I won't be going with you," Crowley reiterated, folding his arms against his chest. They'd already had this argument, why did they have to have it again, hadn't his heart been broken into enough pieces already?
"Uh, I…" Aziraphale faltered, a few complicated expressions passed over his face, "I just want us to be safe, and together, and this is how I can do that for us."
"I want that too, we want the same thing, Angel, but I'm telling you, Heaven isn't going to give us any of that. I know that things are far from perfect down here, but Heaven is worse."
Aziraphale dropped his gaze to his fiddling hands, after long seconds he turned to look back at where the portal was, then returned his attention to the demon.
His eyes were big and round, open and honest as Aziraphale asked, "Tell me there's another way, Crowley, tell me that there's a way for us to be…us down here without fear hanging over us like an angry storm cloud. Tell me that Earth will be safe, that all of creation will be safe, that we will be safe…"
Crowley's mouth opened and closed, "We'll find a way, Angel, I promise, a way that doesn't involve you joining them again. We've always found a way, we stopped Armageddon for fuck sake!"
Aziraphale didn't look entirely convinced, "We haven't found a way yet, Crowley, and that was a bit of a fluke, wouldn't you say?"
"I don't know what you want me to say, you're ready to flush six thousand years down the drain, I just want my world to keep spinning," Crowley sighed, tired of going in circles, "Do I have all the answers? No, not even close, but would I try for you? Yes, most definitely."
"Oh, Crowley," Aziraphale stepped closer, one hand lightly wrapping around one of Crowley's forearms. He went to twist his arm out of the angel's grip, but the next thing Aziraphale said changed everything, "I'll stay."
"What?"
"I'll stay, I never wanted to leave you, and…and…oh," using his grip on the demon's arm, Aziraphale leant in and locked their lips in a kiss that was no less passionate than the one in the bookshop.
Slowly, Crowley uncrossed his arms and slid one around Aziraphale's neck, and the other half way down his back as he kissed his angel back enthusiastically. He might've pinched himself if he'd had a spare hand.
"I would like to be us, Crowley," Aziraphale confirmed pulling out of the kiss but not out of Crowley's arms.
The tightness in his chest was gradually dissipating, the heavy misery easing – love was such a strange thing.
Aziraphale reached up and timidly lifted the demon's glasses, "Can you forgive me?" he asked, looking into yellow eyes.
If it were anyone else but Aziraphale the answer would've been 'get lost' but this was his angel, who he'd loved deeply for longer than the pyramids had stood in the sand.
"Yeah, I think so," he answered with a hint of a smile, and another kiss, already addicted to the feel of those lips against his, and the taste of his angel – a taste he wished he'd discovered earlier.
"Oh good, I rather thought that I might have ruined things between us," Aziraphale admitted sheepishly.
"If-" no, no ifs, Aziraphale had chosen him, it had been a close one though, "You'll always be my angel," he chose to say instead.
"Sometimes you say the nicest things," Aziraphale positively glowed in his arms, and Crowley let him get away with the 'nice' comment just that once.
Suddenly, Crowley realised that they weren't in their own little bubble, but had gained a bunch of onlookers who all seemed to be invested in their relationship all of a sudden. He caught Nina's eye from behind her counter, she gave him a grin and a thumbs up, and he flashed her a smile back before refocusing on the angel in his arms, "Can we go back inside now? People are staring…"
Aziraphale replaced Crowley's glasses over his eyes, "Oh, yes, well, I rather thought that we might go for a spot of brunch at the Ritz...to celebrate...us. We haven't been in a while."
"I thought you'd never ask," Crowley smirked, releasing Aziraphale from his embrace, "hop in."
'A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square' played as the Bentley's engine roared to life, and Aziraphale slid his fingers between Crowley's in the demon's lap. Crowley removed his glasses and genuinely smiled at him, feeling love expand his chest, before pulling away from the curb.
When they arrived at the Ritz, they stepped out of the Bentley and were greeted by an actual Nightingale singing, and in that moment Crowley knew that they'd be alright.