Oooooh we're all getting petty this chapter...
Not gonna say too much, just...strap in for the ride, yall. This was far too satisfying to write honestly.
Referenced lyrics from "Castles Crumbling" by Taylor Swift ft. Hayley Williams (TV, From the Vault)
~oOo~oOo~oOo~
Aziraphale took a deep breath as he stepped out of the elevator, doors closing behind him.
There was only one thought on his mind, the same thought that had been occupying his every waking hour for the better part of six thousand years.
Crowley.
He had to find Crowley.
(To Aziraphale, the elevator ride halfway up had barely lasted twenty minutes, but what the angel didn't know was that time worked differently in the elevator suspended between realms. In fact, it worked exactly as its occupants wanted it to work, and as Aziraphale had been anything but eager to arrive in Heaven, the elevator had - whithout his knowlege - obliged his subconscious wish and stretched time accordingly.
What felt like a few minutes to Aziraphale had in fact been a few hours on Earth, more than enough time for a certain demon to drive to his flat, mope around in his car to the voice of Taylor Swift, sleep for some time and just generally feel sorry for himself.
Also more than enough time for a certain car to feel a shift in her favourite angel's conviction, to leave her parking space in Mayfair and make the short drive back to her designated space in front of a book shop.)
Aziraphale looked down the street, startling when he spotted the familiar silhouette of the Bentley parked in her usual spot. An involuntary smile spread on his face at the sight of the car, and his feet made their way over to her before he even knew what he was doing.
"Why, hello there." He gently stroked a hand over her hood. "Are you...here to bring me to him?"
Instead of an answer, the car turned yellow before his eyes, doors unlocking.
Aziraphale got in, breathing in the familiar smell of smoke and leather that lingered in the Bentley's seats.
"He didn't..." Aziraphale knew it couldn't be, but his silly little heart skipped a hopeful beat at the thought anyway. "He didn't send you, did he?"
The Bentley slowly pulled out of the parking lot, and Aziraphale sighed.
"No, of course not. He couldn't have known."
And he probably wouldn't have bothered even if he knew.
"Could you please stay black, though?" Aziraphale smiled sadly. "I want to feel like he's here with me, you know?"
The Bentley did as he asked, the air rippling around him as reality was bent back to black paint and an interior tragically lacking any travel sweets. The angel patted the steering wheel in thanks, watching as the Bentley followed the road he knew would lead them to the flat in Mayfair. At least Crowley had gotten his home back.
Once I had an empire in a golden age, the radio started playing all of a sudden.
I was held up so high, I used to be great
They used to cheer when they saw my face
Now, I fear I have fallen from grace
"That's new." Aziraphale listened to the unfamiliar female voice coming from the speakers, sad and hauntingly beautiful and not at all Crowley's usual taste.
Their faith was strong, but I pushed it too far
I held that grudge 'til it tore me apart
His chest constricted painfully at the words, a shudder running down Aziraphale's spine as he tried to smile through the sudden onslaught of emotion.
"Is that for me, then?" A watery chuckle left his throat. "I deserve that, I suppose."
Power went to my head, and I couldn't stop
Ones I loved tried to help, so I ran them off
Aziraphale's eyes watered and he pressed his lips together.
The Bentley was right. He had been blinded by hope, by his longing to have the power to make everything right - instead, he had caused everything that had been right in his life to crash and burn. He had lost everything that counted, had driven Crowley away and-
And here I sit alone, behind walls of regret
Falling down like promises that I never kept
A silent tear trailed down Aziraphale's cheek, and he quickly reached up to wipe it off. He had no right to cry, no right to feel sorry for himself. This was all his fault. Crowley had wanted to be with him, had wanted him to stay so they could be together. He had promised Crowley, after Armageddon didn't happen, he had said they'd be on their own side now and then...
And I feel like my castle's crumbling down
And I watch all my bridges burn to the ground
And you don't want to know me
I will just let you down
Aziraphale shook his head. Squeezed his eyes shut against the stinging of tears.
He had to pull himself together. It was too late now to undo his mistakes. It didn't help anyone of he sat here and wallowed in his sorrow and regret.
But he could try and make up for it. He could get his act together, walk up to Crowley's door and speak his piece. If the demon didn't want anything to do with him afterwards, he'd still have time to drown in self-pity. But now, he needed to stay strong. He needed to show Crowley that he'd chosen him for good.
You don't wanna know me now
He just hoped Crowley would still want to choose him, too.
~oOo~
The sound of the door-knocker reverberated loudly in the empty stairwell when Aziraphale stood in front of Crowley's flat, but his heartbeat pounding in his ears was louder.
There was scrambling on the other side, like someone was hastily (and not very elegantly) making their way towards the door, then silence. Silence for so long Aziraphale already feared Crowley simply wouldn't open.
Then suddenly, the black wood gave way, and Aziraphale's heart stumbled over itself in his chest when he laid eyes on the demon.
He was beautiful - had he always been so beautiful? - all long lines and lean limbs in his slim jeans, flaming red hair and, to Aziraphale's incredible disappointment, dark sunglasses covering up his eyes.
He must have put them on to open the door. Surely, Crowley wouldn't be wearing his glasses around his own home.
The realisation sent a wave of sadness through the angel. Merely yesterday, Crowley had taken his glasses off whenever he entered Aziraphale's bookshop, Aziraphale's presence. Now, he had put his defences up quite literally, and quite specifically to shield himself from Aziraphale.
His hair seemed a little messier than usual, his clothes a little less neatly in place - but maybe that was just Aziraphale's wishful thinking, a desperate attempt to find signs that Crowley had taken their separation - short as it may have been - just as badly as he had.
"Thought you'd be in Heaven by now", the demon said coldly, leaning against his door frame and thus blocking his way inside.
"So did I."
"What do you want, Aziraphale?"
Crowley crossed his arms in front of his chest, and Aziraphale hated it all, the defensive stance, the defensive gesture, the defensive glasses - and that it was all his fault.
"Come to tell me again how you forgive me?", the demon sneered, the words clawing at Aziraphale's heart so painfully he needed to take a deep breath.
"N-No." He took a tiny step forward, but the demon showed no intention of moving from his spot. "No, I- I came to say that I'm sorry-"
"No", Crowley snapped, cutting him off, "you feel guilty. There's a difference."
"Crowley, please." Aziraphale could feel the desperation rising inside him, tried to force it down without effect. "Will you just let me inside? I know I've wronged you. Unspeakably so. I'm here because it is I who has to ask for forgiveness. Please, I just..."
Aziraphale sighed.
"I came to ask your forgiveness", he said again, as calm and collected as he could. "And I know I don't deserve it." I know I don't deserve you. "But I've come to ask it anyway. Because I meant it when I told you that I need you, Crowley."
He tried to reach the demon's eyes behind his sunglasses, but his expression remained closed off and unreadable.
"Will you please let me inside? I promise, if you don't like what I have to say, you can throw me out again just as swiftly."
Crowley didn't move, seemed to consider his words for a long moment, just looking at him. Aziraphale attempted a hopeful smile, but it faltered and fell the longer they just stood their staring at each other.
Then, Crowley finally moved, stepping aside. He didn't say anything, just jerked his head toward the inside of his flat, and Aziraphale didn't need to be asked twice.
The door closed behind them, Crowley leaning against it once more, effectively trapping the angel. Perhaps this hadn't been such a brilliant idea after all.
Aziraphale looked around the flat, swallowing nervously.
He had so much to say.
So much he simply didn't know where to begin.
"I-I..." Aziraphale sighed, closing his eyes as he did the first thing that sprung to his mind.
The steps to their little dance were familiar to him by now, almost comforting. He let his body follow the movements, aware that he looked far less graceful than Crowley had when he performed it for him a few days ago, but it didn't matter. He just needed it to show Crowley that he really was here to apologise.
He opened his eyes when he was done, smiling tentatively at the demon who was staring at him.
"Are you serious right now?"
Crowley looked even angrier than before, if that was possible, and Aziraphale flinched slightly, shaking his head.
"I'm trying to apologise", he said. "And we always-"
"You gotta be fucking kidding me!"
"Crowley, please." Aziraphale wrapped his arms around himself, the fact that Crowley was rejecting his apology hitting him like a ton of bricks. They always did the dance. The dance was what they did, had done for millennia, it was theirs, their little tradition. The dance had always worked and-
"I know this isn't enough", Aziraphale said, "but I just hoped it might be a start. I'm sorry if I've made you angry, I just thought-"
"A dance." Crowley pushed himself off the door, coming towards him, eyebrows raised behind his glasses. "You think a dance will make up for this?"
"Of course not." Nothing will ever make up for this. "I don't know what I can do to show you how deeply I regret how we parted."
"Do you now." Crowley laughed bitterly. "Bet that regret gained a lot more weight when you realized Heaven wouldn't be working out for you after all, huh? Bad enough to come crawling back now and have me play the second fiddle again."
"No..." Tears were stinging in the corner of Aziraphale's eyes, but he blinked them away. Pity wasn't what he needed now, from himself or Crowley. "No, you were never- oh, my dear, I-"
"Don't call me that!"
The snap was so forceful it made Aziraphale start back, his hands trembling as dread sunk in. Crowley had never said that before. Not ever. Not even when they barely knew each other. He had always called Crowley dear, and Crowley had always called him angel, and Crowley rejecting that now was...was...
Aziraphale swallowed hard, clutching his hands together in front of him to hide their shaking.
"Crowley." He breathed deeply. "What would you have me do? Do you want me to beg? I can beg." I'll plead, I'll cry, I'll humiliate myself in front of you, I'll pray-
"I begged!", Crowley hissed, fangs bared. "I begged for you to stay and you didn't care."
"I know." But I cared. I cared so much it nearly tore me apart. "And I should have listened. You have every right to distrust me, to despise me even. You trusted that I'd know better, you..."
You put your faith in the wrong angel. Crowley had always thought him better than he truly was.
"You put too much faith in me", Aziraphale said, swallowing against the way his voice had begun to sound thick with tears. "And I disappointed you. And that's nothing new, is it? I've disappointed you time and time again over the years and still I- I've realised, far too late, I realised just how much I depend on you being there for me. Because you always have been. All the time. Since the very beginning."
"So you came here to clear your conscience before leaving me and going back to that shithole upstairs?" Crowley made a rude gesture towards the ceiling. "That's real grand, Aziraphale, even for you."
He deserved that.
He knew he deserved that.
That didn't make it hurt any less.
"He told me who you were", he heard himself say, causing Crowley's head to snap up.
"What?"
"The Metatron", Aziraphale clarified. "He told me who you used to be. When you were still..."
He trailed off, but the blank expression on Crowley's face told him that the demon knew exactly what he was referring too.
"I see", Crowley said coldly, emotionlessly, head lowering to look down at the floor.
"He didn't say any names but...he told me you used to be Supreme Archangel."
"Well." Crowley shrugged, head hung low purposefully. "Great. So now you know I couldn't hack it, huh. That I was the highest of the high but it wasn't enough. Nono. Not me. Of course I had to fuck it up as I always do."
He looked up, eyes fixed on Aziraphale so intensely he could feel the stare even through the dark lenses.
"Is that what you've learned of me, angel?"
And for the first time in millennia, the first time ever, that did not sound like a term of endearment but a bullet thrown his way to create distance. And somehow, that hurt even more than anything else Crowley had said.
Aziraphale shook his head.
"Do not put words in my mouth, Crowley. How could you even think that."
"Oh, I dunno." Crowley threw his arms up before crossing them in front of his chest again. "Maybe because that's what they all think of me up there. And you seem terribly cosy with your lot recently."
"They used to be your 'lot' too, you know."
Did Crowley really think that little of him? He supposed he deserved a certain level of mistrust, but this?
"We've both lived there and know how prone to misconception and judgement Heaven is", Aziraphale said. "You don't need to remind me."
"Oh, don't I? Wasn't me who thought it was a brilliant idea to rejoin their ranks though, was it?"
"I know, and that was a mistake. But it was never about being back with them", Aziraphale said, assuming that it didn't truly need clarification, surely. "It was always about us."
But wasn't that obvious? Surely, Crowley had to know that. Right? Right?
Crowley laughed, a cold humourless thing, cruel and lifeless. Aziraphale never wanted to hear that sound come out of his demon again.
"That's-" Crowley nodded, laughing disbelievingly. "That's fucking rich", he said, pointing at Aziraphale in accusation. "You're the reason this all went to shit. Because you thought your devotion to Heaven was more important than your devotion to me. So fuck off, pretending this was about us! I wanted it to be about us and you-"
"You put your hatred for Heaven first same as I did my faith!", Aziraphale burst out, unable to stand it any longer. This was all going wrong. This wasn't how it had been supposed to go, this-
"Fine!", Crowley snapped, growling agitatedly. "Whatever."
"Crowley." He was begging now, wasn't he? His voice certainly sounded like it. "I didn't come here to fight, I-"
"Nah." The demon looked down at him mockingly. "You came to 'apologise.'"
Crowley stared him down, and Aziraphale took it all in. Those bitterly tensed fingers, white knuckles gripping his own arms too forcefully. Those hissed words, driving tears into Aziraphale's eyes that he had to wipe at angrily. That clenched jaw, those tight lips, those still-covered eyes-
It was too much.
That wasn't his Crowley, and Aziraphale couldn't stand to look at him.
"Is..." He swallowed hard the keep the tears out of his voice. "Is this how it's going to be between us now?", he asked then, watching in satisfaction as the demon flinched ever so slightly - finally showing a sign of emotion other than fury and apathy. "Is this what my mistake cost me?", he went on. "Really? Because if it is, when there really is nothing I could say that you want to hear, tell me now and I'll go and spare us both this farce any further."
He waited, watched Crowley as the demon stood motionless, tense jaw working as he gritted his teeth. The moment seemed to stretch on forever, but Aziraphale let it, wouldn't be the one to break it.
At last, Crowley moved, his whole figure relaxing ever so slightly as he untangled his arms and reached up, forcefully ripping the sunglasses from his face and carelessly throwing them on the nearest surface.
"Fine." His eyes sparkled with something Aziraphale couldn't quite place, but it was so much better than seeing nothing at all.
"Talk, then", the demon said. "I'm listening."