This whole thing I did with Crowley and the Bentley here was pure self-indulgence, I ain't even gonna lie. This is what happens when you listen to your Taylor Swift pain playlist right after finishing s2. I apologize. Please, bear with me.
Referenced lyrics to songs in order of appearance:
The Story of Us (TV), You're Losing Me, Death By A Thousand Cuts, Haunted (TV), Foolish One (TV, From the Vault), My Tears Ricochet, Getaway Car
~oOo~oOo~oOo~
The Bentley's door closed behind him with a dull sound, and for the first time, it didn't feel comforting to sit in his beloved car.
He wasn't driving to the bookshop to see Aziraphale. He wasn't picking Aziraphale up to go to dinner. Aziraphale would never sit in the passenger seat again.
He started the car, let the familiar rumbling of the engine fill his ears and reverberate through his body. It didn't drown out his raging mind, it didn't soothe his aching heart.
I used to think one day, we'd tell the story of us, the Bentley suddenly started playing.
How we met and the sparks flew instantly
And people would say 'they're the lucky ones'
What the fuck? Was that- No, surely not. It couldn't be.
Oh, a simple complication, miscommunications lead to fallout, the car went on.
So many things that I wish you knew,
so many walls up, I can't break through
Fuck. It sure was. For the first time in decades, the Bentley played anything other than Queen. And it was fucking Taylor Swift of all things.
"Yeah, you thought." Crowley smashed the off button on the radio, but the music didn't stop.
I'm starting to think one day, I'll tell the story of us
How I was losing my mind when I saw you here
But you held your pride like you should've held me
Okay. Fuck. That had torn uncomfortably at something in Crowley's chest that he didn't want to think too closely about.
"What the-?"
He tried the button again. Nothing.
Oh, I'm scared to see the ending,
why are we pretending this is nothing
I'd tell you I miss you but I don't know how,
I've never heard silence quite this loud
The silence after the kiss. The silence that screamed goodbye.
The silence that meant no nightingales.
This is looking like a contest
of who can act like they care less
But I liked it better when you were on my side
My side. Our side. Had there ever been 'our side'? Or had that been a lie he told himself?
The battle's in your hands now,
but I would lay my armour down
If you said you'd rather love than fight
Aaaaand that was quite enough of that. This had to be a joke. He tried skipping to the next song.
More Taylor. And worse. At least the first one had some decent electric guitars.
You say 'I don't understand'
and I say 'I know you don't'
We thought a cure would come through in time,
now I fear it won't
"You've gotta be kidding me."
He tried again. Same thing.
"Are you fucking serious right now?" He stared accusingly at the steering wheel, but the Bentley just kept driving, music playing undisturbed from her speakers.
Saying goodbye is death by a thousand cuts, flashbacks waking me up
Get drunk but it's not enough, cause the morning comes and you're not my baby
I look through the windows of this love,
even though we boarded them up
Chandelier's still flickering here,
cause I can't pretend it's okay when it's not
Were these actual songs? The Bentley hadn't suddenly developed the ability to change lyrics according to Crowley's emotions, had she?
Because he could remember so clearly how the chandelier had looked in the bookshop, that night Aziraphale held his Austen ball. Crowley had thought it a tad ridiculous, huge shimmering monstrosity of a lamp, but it made his angel smile, so it was just what should be hanging there.
Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand
Paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans
Aziraphale had danced with him that night. Had just taken his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor. It had been so warm, Aziraphale's hand in his. It had felt like it belonged there.
My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust
Trying to find a part of me you didn't take up
All those nights spent in the back of the bookshop, drinking and just being together.
Gave you too much, but it wasn't enough-
The Bentley swivelled on the road as Crowley yanked on the steering wheel. Another car honked at him as they slipped on the wet road, hurling them into the oncoming traffic for a second before the car decided to take matters into her own wheels and took over. Crowley panted heavily as the Bentley settled back in her lane, following the road without needing instructions.
Gave you too much, but it wasn't enough.
He gave up pretending that he wasn't listening, wasn't finding his emotions mirrored in the music. Perhaps the Bentley knew he needed this. It hurt, but he welcomed the pain. As long as there was pain, this looming sense of emptiness couldn't spread in his body. Not yet.
Tears were stinging in his eyes, blurring his vision, and he let them.
He didn't need to watch the road anyway.
~oOo~
He'd thought this would feel different.
The elevator doors closed in front of him, the familiar ding of the H button ringing in Aziraphale's ears. It had hurt, back then, thinking he'd never make his way up to Headquarters again.
Now, the once comforting brightness of holy light stung in Aziraphale's eyes.
The movement of the elevator going upwards made his stomach drop.
He thought back to the wide open halls of Heaven that awaited him, feeling so clean, pure and welcoming once. Now the picture just seemed sterile and dead opposed to his comfortable shop, crammed with shelves of books, each one precious to him, each one a piece of his own story.
There was the armchair Crowley always used to sit in. The valuable bottles of wine he'd collected specifically for him and Crowley to share. There was a curtain he never closed because he knew Crowley liked to sprawl out in the spot of sunlight falling in through the window. There was a potted plant on the windowsill, a plant Crowley had given him, a plant that had started to bloom last year even though Crowley insisted the species wasn't supposed to.
His bookshop was filled with things he loved and cherished, but above all, it was filled with memories. And all the happiest ones were linked to Crowley.
The elevator rattled around him, and Aziraphale felt sick.
What was he even doing here? This wasn't where he belonged, this wasn't his home anymore, this was-
Had he just been manipulated? They'd told him everything he had always wanted to hear, showered him with praise and patted him on the back, telling him he'd done well, that no one else could be a better choice. He had craved this for so long, the recognition, the acceptance, the appreciation.
He had been looking for approval so fiercely, had been craving it so desperately for six thousand years now. The Metatron had offered it all on a silver platter, and Aziraphale had been too weak of an angel not to reach for it as it presented itself.
All his existence, his entire person had been built around the desire to be good. To be kind, to be righteous, to be right. His self-esteem had been depending almost entirely on the acknowledgement he got, little as it was.
But Crowley...Crowley had always given him all of that and more, hadn't he?
Crowley had always been there, had encouraged him, supported him, indulged him, rescued him, loved him-
Crowley had- Crowley had loved him.
Aziraphale felt like he couldn't breathe, which was quite ridiculous, considering that his body didn't even strictly need to breathe. He felt dizzy, his head spinning as he leaned a hand against the elevator wall to steady himself.
What had he done?
He had left Crowley. He had abandoned Crowley, had thrown away years and years of- of...
He had left the one who had always given everything he had ever wished for and more, and what for? This wasn't his side anymore, it had stopped being his side millennia ago. Why did he even need their approval, why would he even want their approval when his lovely, beautiful demon was there to shower him with more love than the hollow halls of Heaven could ever dream of harbouring?
The white light of divinity was too harsh in comparison to the light in Crowley's eyes.
The clean vastness of Heaven's floors too cold in comparison to the warmth of Crowley's touch.
His eyes were stinging, everything too barren and bleak and bright, too suffocating.
The Metatron's protests fell on deaf ears as Aziraphale's fingers found the elevator button.
~oOo~
She had taken him home. Of course she had.
Or well. She had taken him to his flat. Closest thing to home there was. Closest thing to home there would ever be, now that Aziraphale wasn't there anymore to fill that word with meaning.
The Bentley parked in her usual spot, the one that was always magically empty for her. Last time she was here had been the night Aziraphale had spent at his place, the night before they swapped bodies and finally cut all ties with their respective Head Offices.
Or so Crowley had thought. Seemed Aziraphale hadn't done that much cutting after all.
Crowley didn't get out of the car. He just sat and listened.
The music had become a comfort now, even though he would deny that til the day he ceased to exist. It tore at his heart, felt like his thoughts and feelings were being ripped right out of his body and poured into the radio, but it was strangely freeing to have his muddled mess of emotions put into words like that.
You and I walk a fragile line, it was singing now,
I have known it all this time
But I never thought I'd live to see it break
Stood there and watched you walk away
from everything we had
But I still mean every word I said to you
'We're a team, a group', Crowley had said. 'And we've spent our existence pretending that we aren't'.
'We need to get away from them, just be an us'.
'We can go off together'.
How many times now had he asked the angel to go off together? How many times had the answer been no?
Oh, holding my breath
Won't lose you again
Something made your eyes go cold
That look on his angel's face when Crowley released his hold on him. The way his back had straightened, his jaw hardened. Aziraphale had never looked at him that way before. Never. Not even in the very beginning. Crowley knew it would haunt him every hour for the rest of eternity.
Come on, come on, don't leave me like this
I thought I had you figured out
Something's gone terribly wrong
You're all I wanted
Tears were falling freely now, wetting Crowley's cheeks and dripping in his lap. He let them. Once he opened the car's door, no one would see a trace of him falling apart. He'd pull himself together in front of the rest of the world, no one would suspect a thing.
He'd lock everything inside and throw away the key, would let numbness take over and throw a blanket over the pain that tried to choke him with its iron grip.
But he would have this moment first. He would let it consume him, would let the emotion wash over him, cleanse him. He had to feel it all first before he would shut it all out and never feel anything ever again.
The next song started, and Crowley gripped the Bentley's wheel tightly.
My cards are on the table, yours are in your hand
Chances are tonight you've already got plans
And chances are I will talk myself to sleep again
It was almost pathetic, really, how darn accurate it all was. He was fucking pathetic, thinking back to all the nights he had been lying awake fantasizing about a future that would never be his, a love that had never existed outside of his delusional mind.
You give me just enough attention
to keep my hopes too high
Wishful thoughts forget to mention
when something's really not right
And I will block out these voices
of reason in my head
And the voices say: 'You are not the exception,
you will never learn your lesson'
He would have laughed if it hadn't been so depressingly true. Even now, even while every cell in his body ached at the thought of the angel, all he wanted was to see his face again, just one more time.
There would never be anyone else.
It didn't matter how much he was hurting.
There could never be anyone else.
Foolish One, stop checking your mailbox
for confessions of love that ain't never gonna come,
you will take the long way,
you will take the long way down
Crowley was quite familiar with taking the long way down, thank you very much for the reminder.
You know how to keep me waiting,
I know how to act like I'm fine
Don't know what to call this situation,
but I know I can't call you mine
And it's delicate, but I will do my best
to seem bullet-proof
Right. Crowley sighed deeply, pressing his eyes closed.
He had to pull himself together. He had to move on.
He wiped his eyes.
He had to move on.
I didn't have it in myself to go with grace, the Bentley played.
And you're the hero flying around saving face
And if I'm dead to you why are you at the wake?
Cursing my name, wishing I stayed
Look at how my tears ricochet
That's what it was, wasn't it. Aziraphale wanted to be the hero. He wanted Heaven's approval, wanted to be patted on the back. It hadn't been enough that Crowley tried at every turn to give him the praise and appreciation he'd always craved. It hadn't been enough.
And now Crowley was the bad guy. Crowley refused to go with him. Crowley hadn't stayed by his side.
And Aziraphale would soon find out why, would soon remember that Heaven was just as bad as Hell, it just covered all its rotten parts in the blinding light of glory. Aziraphale would remember, and he would regret ever leaving.
The thought filled him with a sickening sense of satisfaction, and he hated himself for it.
Perhaps he was the bad guy.
That's how it had always been.
I'm good, Aziraphale would always tell him. You're evil.
Right.
The ties were black, the lies were white
In shades of grey and candlelight
I wanted to leave him, I needed a reason
Perhaps Aziraphale really had only needed a reason to leave him behind. Perhaps he'd just needed somewhere else to go.
Fuck him, then.
Fuck shades of grey. Fuck all of it.
And I can go anywhere I want, it sounded from the radio as Crowley opened the door.
He looked up at the windows that belonged to his flat. He had wanted it back so badly while he couldn't have it. Now it was all he had left, and he had never dreaded entering its empty rooms more than he did right now.
And I can go anywhere I want
Anywhere I want, just not home