Crowley pulled the Bentley up to the curb just outside the bookshop and paused, staring at the shop with a light frown. He hadn't expected to be able to look at the building without feeling anger and frustration so soon. Those feelings were still there, of course, but they were being buried underneath the plans of what he would do to help Nithael. Should Aziraphale suddenly show up though, he was sure those feelings would come to a heated boil. For now, though, he had other things to think about and they just happened to involve the clueless white-haired angel who now resided inside.

He let out a sigh and got out of the car, walking over to the shop and stepping in. Muriel was behind the counter and beamed a smile as he idly lifted a hand in greeting. He half expected to see Nithael stocking the shelves again but as he looked around with a frown, he realized he didn't see them.

"Oh, are you looking for Nithael, Mr. Crowley?" Muriel asked, earning a nod in return.

He hadn't told her everything that happened the previous day but enough for her to know he was trying to help Nithael learn about life on Earth.

"Yeah, I figured we could start small today. Go to the cafe or something to ease them into—you know—humanity or whatever," he drawled, picking up a book and grimacing at the title as he dropped it back onto the pile he'd gotten it from. "Where is the anxious mess?"

"She's out," Muriel replied, making him turn to her in surprise.

"What? Really?"

He never would have thought they'd take the step out into the world on their own but Muriel's smile was a little more forced and she was awkwardly wringing her hands. Now, he was worried.

"Muriel, where are they?" He demanded and the angel winced.

"Um, well…" She turned her gaze upward and Crowley's eyes followed their path before his heart clenched.

No. No, they wouldn't. He ripped off his sunglasses and stormed over to Muriel as he did his best not to snap at her for answers, leaning over the counter with a snarl.

"They're in Heaven?"

Muriel nodded quickly. "I-I believe they make reports, Mr. Crowley, sir. E-Every month or so."

"About what?" He bit out, suddenly wondering if he'd made a mistake when she said she didn't know.

If what he'd offered Nithael was a part of their plan. If they faked the whole thing and—No. No, that wasn't true. Crowley took a deep breath and backed away from Muriel, thinking, remembering the honest-to-God fear in their eyes when they'd panicked the day before. That wasn't faked. I know those eyes. That wasn't—Yet, a part of him welled with doubt. Nithael might have the same bright blue eyes as Aziraphale but they weren't the same person. More than that, he didn't really know Aziraphale anymore, did he? So did he have the right to say that?

He swallowed thickly and shoved the reminder of the angel away, moving toward an armchair and dropping into it. He sprawled his lengthy body across it and put his sunglasses back on, turning his yellow gaze to Muriel.

"Are they coming back?"

Muriel nodded so quickly that it was a wonder she didn't get whiplash. "Oh, yes! They went last month too and came back rather quickly. I don't know how long it might take today though."

He waved her off, settling further into the chair with a frown as he folded his arms over his chest. He would wait then, probably scold them once they were back. They should've told me, he mentally grumbled as his heart clenched uneasily. Stupid angel. As the minutes turned into hours, his frown deepened and he did his best not to think about the pain in his heart wondering if he was being betrayed yet again.

Nithael stood in the brightly lit elevator uneasily holding a cup of tea that was to be their excuse for having visited Earth if anyone were to ask. Not that anyone would but still. As it was, they were nervous about being back in Heaven again, especially now that they'd met with Crowley. It made them wonder if the demon had somehow rubbed off on them and the angels here would sense it in some way. That uneasiness ate away at their mind as the elevator stopped and dinged, letting them back out into the familiar pure white halls.

Their body automatically went through the steps to take them to where Aziraphale would be waiting at his desk and when they were finally within sight of it, their heart stopped; blood running cold at the figure standing before the desk in his crisp white suit. Aziraphale's desk was empty but Metatron stood there patiently waiting. Nithael felt a roll of fear trickle through them—Have we been found? Where's Aziraphale? What will happen to me?—and they stopped for half a second before continuing. They had to keep going. If it was nothing, then it would seem suspicious. Though if it was something, then they might very well be walking into their own demise.

Metatron glanced up from the desk and smiled at Nithael as they approached, though there was no actual kindness behind those cold gray eyes.

"Hello," he greeted, brows furrowing for a moment in puzzlement. "Sorry, you're…"

"Nithael," they replied, grateful that they were able to keep their voice from wobbling. "7th class scrivener working under the… the Archangel Azirpahale."

"Ah, yes. Right, right." He noticed the paper cup they were holding then. "What's that you have there?"

"Tea," Nithael muttered, heart racing far faster now. "The Archangel requested it."

"Hm," Metatron hummed. "Yes, he does have his fondness for Earth beverages. Well, he should just about be finishing up his meeting in a moment. I only dropped by to pick up some paperwork."

It hadn't looked that way to Nithael. Why stand by the desk waiting if one was just picking up paperwork and going on their way? Still, Nithael couldn't exactly question things and just stepped up to the desk themselves to place the cup on a coaster and idly give their hands something to do—organizing the few scattered papers back into a neat stack. They stiffened though when Metatron leaned over the desk beside them, placing a hand on their shoulder.

"I do hope your little trips down to Earth have been pleasant." His hand tightened slightly. "Depending on where you stopped for tea, there might be a few nasty demons lying about. Would hate for you to get… caught up in anything."

Nithael grew cold but their mouth opened and responded on their own. "Of course, sir. I keep the trips very brief." They turned to face him, somehow hiding their churning stomach full of fear and their racing heart behind their calm gaze. "I wouldn't want to associate with a demon of all things. It would put me at risk of a Fall. I wouldn't last a day in Hell."

Metatron eyed them for a second before smiling again, patting their shoulder, and stepping back. "Yes. Yes, of course not."

"Ah." Aziraphale had just rolled around the corner, spotting the two of them and managing to plaster on a smile. "Metatron. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I was just checking in on you and your assistant. I assume your meeting went well?"

"Yes, we're already making good progress on the Great Plan. We should be able to present the finished Second Coming proposal soon."

"Excellent. I look forward to it," Metatron hummed, starting to talk off before pausing and smiling over his shoulder. "Do enjoy your tea."

Aziraphale nodded and he watched Metatron leave before his smile fell and he whipped to Nithael. "Does he know?"

Nithael had sagged though, bowed over his desk and trying to breathe through clenched teeth.

"Nithael—"

"N-No," they choked out. "No… maybe? I-I don't…"

Aziraphale lightly placed a hand on their shuddering back, guilt eating at him for putting Nithael through this. "I… I am so sorry, Nithael. If you want… I would understand if you wish to back out."

They shook their head, gripping the desk tightly and taking a deep shuddering breath. They didn't say anything but Aziraphale understood and offered a small smile.

"Thank you, Nithael. Here, sit," he offered, miracling up a chair for them to sit in and lightly leading them into it. "Take your time."

He moved to settle behind his desk once more, smiling softly when he saw that his once-scattered documents were neatly stacked. Nithael was always so reliable and he was unbelievably grateful for having met them here.

"I…" Nithael started, drawing his attention to them as they lifted their head. "I met Crowley."

Aziraphale immediately perked up, heart racing and chest growing tight. "How is he? Is he…"

Is he what? Okay? Because he wouldn't be after how they split up two years ago. He was honestly stunned that Nithael had met him so soon. He half expected Crowley to never show his face in Soho again. Knowing he had was both relieving and frightening. Had he moved on so quickly? What other reason would he have to be in Soho again? The questions spun around in his head making him dizzy as he waited for Nithael to respond.

"He is… nice."

Aziraphale hadn't expected that, opening his mouth and closing it again as he tried to think of what to say. "...Nice?"

Nithael glanced away awkwardly. "He wants to… help," they explained. "Help me learn about humans."

Aziraphale's heart swelled, feeling so much for the demon who'd watched over him and done very much the same for over six thousand years. Oh, Crowley.

"Do you want to learn about them?" He asked, hoping that they did.

It wasn't often angels got the chance to go down to Earth and many of them had very skewed ideas on humans and their purpose—Great Plan or otherwise. Nithael's nod made him smile.

"Then, I am glad you've found yourself the best possible teacher. He's doing okay though?"

Nithael nodded. "From all appearances. I… I didn't see him for long. He thought… He thinks I'm spying on him for Heaven."

"Well, he's not entirely wrong."

Nithael shook their head. "He was not happy. He thought I was a threat."

"My word. A threat to what? You are the least threatening person next to Muriel!"

Nithael didn't argue that but felt the slightest bit offended. They weren't about to mention that the only reason they were still a 7th-class scrivener was because they refused a promotion for their efforts during the war. Nithael was hardly harmless… though they were damaged. War affected everyone differently.

Aziraphale sighed lightly, picking up his pen to get started on his paperwork once more. "Well, I suppose I shouldn't expect anything less. I'm sure his attitude toward angels has… changed after what I did… Have you given him the letter yet?"

Nithael shook their head, making him pause in his writing for a moment, heart aching that Crowley hadn't asked about him at all. Or not enough for Nithael to give him the letter. He shouldn't dwell on it for now though, so he cleared his throat and continued.

"Right. How is the shop then? Everything going well?"

Nithael nodded and withdrew some paperwork from their inner coat pocket—already missing the soft turtleneck that they used on Earth. Aziraphale was impressed that they'd not only brought back tea for him but paperwork as well. It wouldn't have been easy and he suddenly wondered if he'd been wrong about how… harmless Nithael was. His gaze shifted to them for a moment but, as always, they gave nothing away as he looked through the paperwork. His small smile returned though, the more he read. Everything was well-organized, up-to-date, and balanced. There wasn't a dollar out of place or a single missing book.

"This is… amazing," he muttered, looking up and handing back the papers. "You did all this?"

Nithael nodded, eyeing him in question for doubting their skills.

"It's very good work," Azriaphale praised. "I wish there were more angels with your level of skill. Though…" He bowed his head slightly. "I suppose that wouldn't exactly be a good thing given what we're doing."

Nithael stared at him for a moment and he realized then that he never told them anything. He didn't tell them about his and Crowley's role in the last Armageddon, about what he was offered and why he was in Heaven. He hadn't even said what he was rocking on—though surely they overheard him talking about it just now—and they hadn't asked a single question. But they still chose to help me… Decision made, he let out a sigh and sank back into his chair, abandoning his paperwork for now.

"Nithael… would you like to hear about how Crowley and I met?" He asked, seeing a hint of unease in their expression and, realizing how that sounded, he flushed and was quick to correct himself. "I-I meant what led up to me being here; what I'm doing… or, trying to do. Crowley is involved and… and he played a large part in things. I just realized that I never really explained things to you and you're already risking so much… I want to return the favor any way I can."

Nithael watched him for a moment before slowly nodding and Aziraphale let out a soft sigh, enshrouding them in silence with a wave of his hand.

"Right then. I suppose I should start at the beginning. The… The very beginning."