Aziraphale was sitting on the table that Metatron had given him. Papers, folders, booklets were scattered everywhere. Aziraphale was making notes in his notebook, checking with documents from time to time. It has been two months as he had been working for the good of Heaven.
At first, he was skeptical about his appointment. Especially after Metatron's words about the Second Coming. But it turned out not so scary as he thought. The Second Coming was indeed planned, but no one has set specific dates yet. The project was in development, which means Aziraphale still had time to change everything.
So far, he was dealing with the Heavenly Office. He put a box for complaints and suggestions and, surprisingly, many angels decided to use it. There were so many new ideas and reforms that Aziraphale completely drowned in work.
"Aziraphale!" Muriel ran to his floor. They came once a week to report on how things were going in the bookshop. Aziraphale had never heard from them that at least one book had been sold. That pleased him a lot.
"Muriel, hello. I hope you have good news," Aziraphale smiled, putting his pen down. Angel looked a little puzzled.
"Everything is fine in the shop. All the books are in place."
"Wonderful," Aziraphale threw up his hands. "How are Maggie and Nina doing? Haven't gotten together yet?"
"No, unfortunately. But Maggie helps Nina at the coffee shop. They seem to get along nicely," Mariel said. She shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and ran her eyes around the room, trying not to cross Aziraphale's gaze.
"Is something wrong?" The Archangel frowned. Unlike his colleagues, he was able to understand the emotions and behavior of the interlocutor. Muriel bit her lip.
"A demon came into the store..." they said uncertainly.
"Crowley?" Aziraphale asked immediately. All this time he tried not to think about his former friend. Muriel shook their head.
"No. I haven't seen Mr. Crowley for a long time," she said with a note of regret, as it seemed to Aziraphale. The Archangel got up from his chair and walked over to Muriel.
"Is everything okay? Did the demon do something?"
"He gave you this," she handed Aziraphale a piece of paper. "Sorry, I accidentally read it."
Aziraphale breathed a sigh of relief. Nothing happened to the angel, that's good. She was just worried that she had read someone else's letter. Aziraphale took a step to the side and read the note: "6 pm, the old bandstand. We need to talk."
He bit his lip. Aziraphale only knew one bandstand and the last time he was there, he and Crowley had a big fight. Then Crowley offered him to run away together, for the first time.
The Archangel turned to Muriel, who was still looking shyly at the floor. His gaze softened.
"It's all right. Just don't tell anyone about what you've read," Aziraphale patted Muriel on the shoulder and folded the note into the inside pocket of his jacket. Angel smiled awkwardly and left Aziraphale alone with his thoughts.
Why did Crowley decide to contact him this way? Something must have happened.
Aziraphale went back to his chair and hid his face in his hands.
At the appointed time he was in St. James's Park. There were no people around, birds were not singing, there was an almost deafening silence, forcing an alarming atmosphere. The bandstand was empty as well. Aziraphale climbed the steps and felt that he had passed through the barrier. The air swayed gently around, and the skin felt cool.
Despite the fact that there was not a soul around, Crowley apparently expected that the Heavens would be watching them. Paranoid.
"What have you done?" a voice came from behind. Aziraphale flinched slightly in surprise and turned around. Gabriel and Beelzebub stood before him. They stood and looked with condemnation.
"What are you doing here?" Aziraphale wondered. He didn't expect to see this couple for another hundred years, if not more.
"We've come to talk, obviously," Beelzebub spread their hands. Aziraphale didn't understand anything. He frowned, puzzled, looking at their gloomy faces. But then it dawned on him.
"Did you deliver the note?"
"Of course, who else?" Gabriel chuckled. Aziraphale opened his mouth to say that he expected to see Crowley, but then he stopped. They didn't need to know that. But by Beelzebub's squint, he realized that they guessed the answer, which was never uttered. Aziraphale was confused and embarrassed.
"So what have you done?" Gabriel repeated the question once again. Aziraphale didn't understand what they wanted from him. The look of the former boss made him want to hide. It had been a long time since he had felt like this. He was accused of something, and he didn't even know what. But Aziraphale quickly pulled himself together and lifted his chin.
"I do not know what it is about. But I know for a fact that I don't answer to you anymore," Aziraphale said. His voice sounded confident and even a little haughty. He didn't expect this from himself, but it's better than feeling guilty again. Beelzebub shook their head and looked at Gabriel.
"I told you, he doesn't know anything," they said. It seemed to Aziraphale that there was sadness in their voice. Beelzebub approached Aziraphale. And there was regret in their gaze. Aziraphale frankly didn't understand what was going on, but tried not to panic.
"What? What don't I know?" He asked impatiently, looking at the former Prince of Hell.
"Crowley, he's…"
"What?" Aziraphale tensed. What did Crowley do to pull Gabriel and Beelzebub out of their "honeymoon"?
"He was in Hell and asked Shax to erase him from the Book of Life," Beelzebub finished. They looked so sad that Aziraphale wanted to turn away. With their whole appearance, they showed how sad they were that it was them who brought him this terrible news. Aziraphale shifted his gaze to Gabriel. It didn't get any better. The face of the former Archangel was exactly the same as the face of his new girlfriend. Aziraphale nodded slowly.
"And what? Did she do it?" he finally asked. Beelzebub turned to Gabriel in surprise, then looked back at Aziraphale.
"No. Not yet. She gave him a day to think," they replied. Aziraphale chuckled. Beelzebub raised their right eyebrow. "Do you understand what I'm saying? Crowley asked to erase his existence. Not even to kill, but…"
"Yes, yes, I understand that," Aziraphale quickly interrupted her. He heard everything perfectly the first time. "I'm just... digesting."
Beelzebub took a couple of steps back, standing next to Gabriel again, giving Aziraphale space. The couple silently exchanged glances while Aziraphale "digested" the news. In fact, he was just pretending to think.
What was there to think about? Crowley decided on a selfish act, at its worst. To be erased from the Book of Life means to erase everything that was. Remove yourself from history, from the lives of other people. Delete from everyone who knew him, any memories of himself. Crowley had two months to think and he made a decision. It is unlikely that some days will change this.
"Have you talked to him?" Why does he want this? Aziraphale asked and didn't recognize his own voice. It was different. Low and emotionless.
"No. We couldn't find him. You can check, he's not on Earth," Gabriel replied. Aziraphale sighed and closed his eyes. He concentrated and looked into every corner of the planet, looking for Crowley.
Even if Crowley had decided to change his appearance, move into someone or disguise himself in some other way, it wouldn't have helped him. Aziraphale knew his aura too well to feel it. But there was nothing. Crowley was not on Earth, nor in Hell, nor even in Heaven. Apparently, he got lost somewhere in Space, among the millions of stars that he created so that no one could find him and try to dissuade him. He had already made up his mind.
"Well," said Aziraphale. "You're right, he's not here. And what to do?"
Why did he say that? He didn't want to say it. He wanted to express his regrets about Crowley's decision and return to Heaven. He had too much work to do.
"We know when and where Crowley and Shax will have a meeting. We thought…" Beelzebub paused. They were looking at Aziraphale, who had been expressing absolute calm all this time. The Archangel felt how the confidence they had at the beginning of the conversation was decreasing as they talked.
"We thought you'd come with us and talk to him," Gabriel finished.
"Good," Aziraphale nodded. The three of them stood in silence for a while. It began to press on his ears, Aziraphale became uncomfortable. "See you then."
He turned around and began to descend the steps to go beyond the barrier and return to Heaven. He still had a lot of work to do. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Beelzebub and Gabriel whispering. One step separated him from the exit when Gabriel said "Do you want to go to the bar with us?"
Aziraphale froze in place and, turning around, looked at his former boss in surprise. He was smiling awkwardly.
"Why?" Aziraphale asked only.
"Let's sit and talk. We need to pass the time before going to Hell," Gabriel spread his hands.
To Hell? Aziraphale only now realized that he hadn't asked for the time or place where Crowley would appear. Aziraphale was lost in doubt. What should they talk about with Gabriel? About how they had a great life with Beelzebub these couple of months? Will he give advice on the management of the Heavens?
Metatron may need him at any minute, he would like to be at the workplace at this moment, and not in a bar with two apostates. Aziraphale opened his mouth to politely decline "Sure," he said. What? That's not what he meant. Gabriel and Beelzebub visibly cheered up.
"We found a nice place, I think you'll like it," Beelzebub said.
The bar was really nice. Apparently, Beelzebub and Gabriel were regulars there, because without further ado they were led into a separate niche where no one could interfere with them.
"Two light beers and..." Gabriel looked at Aziraphale. He was still in a kind of prostration, trying to figure out what he was doing here, and not at work.
"Um. Sherry, please," Aziraphale replied after a couple of seconds. The waiter took the order and left, leaving the trio alone.
Aziraphale was sitting on a chair, opposite Gabriel and Beelzebub, who, it seemed, were trying to burn a hole in him with their looks. What did they want from him?
"Why do you care about Crowley?" Aziraphale was the first to break the uncomfortable silence. "I remember a couple of years ago you sentenced us both to death."
Beelzebub and Gabriel exchanged glances. Aziraphale didn't understand what their glances meant, but they apparently understood each other perfectly without words. Gabriel lightly squeezed Beelzebub's hand on the table.
"Crowley is dear to me," Beelzebub replied. "We fought side by side, fell together, and worked for six thousand years. His life shouldn't end like this."
"So it was supposed to end up in a holy water bath?" Aziraphale chuckled. Beelzebub sighed heavily, and then suddenly smiled, as parents smile at the questions of a curious child.
"I don't think you can figure it out right now," they shook their head.
Aziraphale raised his eyebrows in surprise.
"We have the whole night ahead, there is time to explain."
"The position of the Supreme Archangel sounds cool, right?" Gabriel asked. Aziraphale frowned in mute question. "But even bosses have bosses, you've probably already noticed that."
"Orders come from the head and move down to the executors," Beelzebub picked up.
"Your task is to make sure that the executors show the result," Gabriel nodded.
"The bosses don't care how their orders are executed," Aziraphale quoted Crowley's words quietly.
"Exactly," Beelzebub said. "While the work is being done, no matter by what means, it is in your power to turn a blind eye to what you know about, but what has not been proven."
Aziraphale looked up from the table and looked at Beelzebub. They knew. All this time they knew about their Agreement. And did nothing.
"But when it comes to the foiled end of the world..." Gabriel spread his hands. "Thousands of angels, thousands of demons know about it. If nothing is done, there will be a riot in both Offices. The Supreme Ones have not only power, but also responsibilities."
Aziraphale was silent. It seems that he understood what they wanted to convey to him. That doesn't mean he would have done the same. But the situation has at least cleared up a little.
"And after six thousand years in this position, things are perceived differently," Gabriel summed up. "Give yourself time, one day you will come to this, too. If you don't run away sooner."
Aziraphale pursed his lips.
He didn't want to run away. He wanted to change the course of things to prevent this from happening. Gabriel and Beelzebub obeyed a system that was far from perfect. Aziraphale planned to fix it.
"And now you answer. Why don't you care about Crowley?" Beelzebub leaned forward, trying to catch Aziraphale's eye. He just shrugged his shoulders.
"I..." and stopped. Who would have known that Beelzebub was so perceptive. The tongue again could not turn to say what was in his thoughts. Aziraphale wanted to say, "I don't see the point. Crowley is independent enough to be responsible for the decisions he makes." But something prevented him from doing it. As if the gut resisted saying such words.
Gabriel and Beelzebub were silent. Their order was brought to them, and Aziraphale immediately took an impressive sip. He didn't understand what was happening to him and tried to figure it out. All this time, from the very beginning of the conversation in the bandstand, he felt strange. He saw how the news about Crowley reflected sadness and regret on the faces of the interlocutors, but he did not feel anything like that himself.
Even Gabriel, who most likely fit into all this just for the sake of Beelzebub, showed concern. And Aziraphale didn't understand why nothing was responding inside him. Even if he knew in his brain that if Crowley had made a decision, then it must be the way it should be it, but there must still be something stirring in his soul.
During the time he spent among mortals, he was able to understand that the mind and heart often contradict each other and nothing can be done about it. He himself has felt these contradictions more than once. But now... something was wrong.
"Are you doing this? Aziraphale asked, looking at Gabriel. He stared back in confusion.
"What?"
"Do you radiate an aura of calm? To control my condition," Aziraphale explained as best he could. He did the same thing in the shop when he hosted the ball. So that Nina and everyone else don't feel upset. He had never been influenced by someone else before, so he didn't know how it should be felt. But, apparently, that's exactly how it was felt now.
"I give you my word that I'm not doing anything like this," Gabriel replied. Beelzebub frowned, and Gabriel squinted, studying the external state of Aziraphale. He was completely confused.
"I... then I don't understand anything," Aziraphale honestly admitted, lowering his shoulders. The couple opposite looked very puzzled.
"Can you tell me what happened between you and Crowley?" Beelzebub asked cautiously. Aziraphale looked at them and thought. Can he tell? Their relationship with Crowley concerned only him and Crowley. On the other hand, former bosses tried to help. Maybe if he tells them what happened, they will help him to deal with the fact that his mind, his heart and his soul are completely at odds with each other.
Aziraphale cleared his throat, choosing his words.
"After..." the memories that he tried to bury surfaced like pictures of a movie. And with all this, nothing was happening inside him. Absolute emptiness, although what happened that day should have caused him a storm of emotions. "After you left, Metatron came. We talked, he offered me a position and said I could make Crowley an angel again. I was glad. Honestly, I thought it was a great idea. We could go to heaven together and fix the system. Crowley didn't think so."
"And then what?" Beelzebub asked. Aziraphale looked at them blankly. He wanted to omit the story of how Crowley confessed his feelings to him and kissed him. It was too... personal. But Beelzebub was looking at Aziraphale expectantly.
"That's how we parted," the Archangel shrugged.
"You're lying," Beelzebub said. Aziraphale was taken aback. Even Gabriel looked at them in surprise. "Crowley wouldn't erase himself from the Book of Life just because you accepted a position. He would have found a way to get in touch with you, you would have continued to have lunch at the Ritz, drink in your cluttered bookshop and do the Devil knows what else you usually did there.
Beelzebub began to get angry. They were angry at Aziraphale, and he didn't understand why. All evening he was accused of something, but he absolutely did not understand why he should feel guilty.
"What did you do, Az-ziraphael?" they started buzzing again.
"He kissed me and I didn't answer!" Aziraphale blurted out and immediately bit his tongue. He didn't want to say it. Why did he say that? What for?
Beelzebub leaned back on the sofa and closed their eyes. Gabriel hid behind a glass of beer, taking small sips, as if he wanted to occupy himself with something, so as not to say anything superfluous, so as not to annoy Beelzebub even more.
Aziraphale also busied himself with his drink. For the first time that evening, he felt something. And it was a shame before Beelzebub. He was ashamed, but for what, he did not understand. Beelzebub was silent, thinking about something with their eyes closed. Gabriel periodically glanced at her, then at Aziraphale. He didn't seem to be thinking about anything. And Aziraphale waited for what the demon would say.
But they didn't say anything. They looked at Gabriel again, and they began to communicate again without words. Aziraphale was uncomfortable to be present at their non-verbal communication, and he began to twist the ring on his little finger to distract himself.
"And what did you feel at that moment?" Beelzebub asked, shifting their gaze to Aziraphale. He almost dropped the ring in surprise. What did he feel? It's hard to say. He had a lot more feelings then than he does now. And at the same time, Aziraphale could not give a specific answer. So Aziraphale just shrugged.
"Wow," Gabriel drawled, "they did a good job on you."
"What are you talking about?" Aziraphale asked absently, still trying to sort himself out. Gabriel quickly moved from the sofa to the chair next to Aziraphale, causing the latter to twitch. Of course, he was not afraid of the former boss, it rather happened instinctively. Gabriel just shook his head.
"Can I?" he asked, holding out his hand to Aziraphale. He didn't really understand what Gabriel wanted to do, but still nodded uncertainly.
Gabriel touched Aziraphale's temple with two fingers. Nothing was happening, but Aziraphale was watching Gabriel's reaction, trying to figure out what he was seeing. Apparently, nothing good. The former Archangel frowned and pursed his lips. After a couple of moments, he took his hand away and exhaled heavily.
"The situation is not pleasant," Gabriel concluded. Aziraphale tensed. If Gabriel and Beelzebub start their silent dialogue again, keeping him in ignorance, Aziraphale will pour his sherry on them.
"And?" asked Aziraphale impatiently. Gabriel returned to his seat and only nodded to Beelzebub.
"Metatron did a good job on you," Gabriel said. "He's been changing you all this time. Apparently, to prevent a riot when the Second Coming begins."
Aziraphale shivered slightly. These were too serious accusations. Maybe it's Gabriel trying to sow doubt in him. Did Crowley put him up to it? Maybe Crowley wasn't going to erase himself from the Book of Life. Maybe it was their plan for Aziraphale to renounce Heaven.
Aziraphale closed his eyes, looking inside himself, trying to catch what Gabriel supposedly saw. What did he think about the Second Coming? Nothing lasts forever. It's God's plan, it was meant to be. It won't happen soon, they had time to prepare. He had his own ideas about this event, how to do everything right.
Crowley. Aziraphale recalled all their gatherings together at the Ritz, in the bookshop. But he didn't feel anything. These memories did not cause either sadness or joy. They just were. As if from another life. Aziraphale was different then.
This is wrong. Aziraphale knew it was wrong. The same force that spoke for him all evening, going against his thoughts, suggested that these thoughts were false. Aziraphale couldn't think like that, it wasn't him.
He felt sick. For two months he worked in Heaven and did not realize that he was being influenced. Slowly, pointwise, they replaced his thoughts and blocked his feelings. He clearly did not expect this from his Head Office.
"Is there any way to fix this?" Aziraphale asked quietly.
"I think so," Gabriel replied. "Metatron didn't have time to finish what he started, so there is a chance. But, unfortunately, it is not in my power to help you. You have to do it yourself."
Aziraphale wanted to ask how he could do it, but a fly flew past him and landed on Beelzebub's shoulder.
"Crowley's back," they said anxiously. "They're starting."
Something in the back of Aziraphale's mind pricked. Here it is. Echoes of the feelings that he must have been experiencing all this time. He can't cope without Crowley, he can't be the same. Crowley showed him "their" side, only Crowley can bring the real him back.
Aziraphale remembered Hell. An unpleasant place, the very atmosphere of which caused a desire to get out of there as soon as possible. Low ceilings, almost complete absence of any light and space littered with tables, cabinets and garbage.
"This way," Beelzebub said and moved forward. You couldn't wish for a better guide. They walked confidently and quickly, almost breaking into a run. Aziraphale would like to feel at least some of what they were going through.
But he was only going through an internal struggle with a voice that kept saying that he needed to leave. Leave Beelzebub, Gabriel and come back. It seemed to Aziraphale that Metatron was literally in his head and watching what was happening. It became disgusting and unpleasant.
They didn't meet anyone on the way. Hell, where thousands of demons usually loitered around, seemed to be empty. An unkind sign.
Beelzebub opened the right door, and they entered a huge hall that looked like a stadium. It immediately became clear where the inhabitants of the Underworld had gone: all the demons were here. No one has ever used the Book of Life. And it is unlikely that it will ever be used again. Everyone was terribly interested in what would happen.
In the center of the hall was a throne, on which sat Shax with a Book in her hands. A lonely figure of Crowley stood in front of her.
As soon as the trio entered, Shax fell silent and everyone in the hall turned their heads at the uninvited guests. But Aziraphale saw no one but Crowley. He slowly turned around. His eyes were still hidden by dark glasses, behind which there was no visible emotion.
"Crowley," Aziraphale called to him. His voice was calm because it was empty inside. Crowley was silent. "Crowley, stop it, please. Let's talk."
There was a faint click. Aziraphale looked around and realized that Crowley had stopped time. But he was still silent and did not move. It was as if he froze himself along with everyone else. Only the barely rising and falling chest showed that this was not the case.
Aziraphale slowly approached Crowley. He didn't have time to think about what he would say. The thought that Metatron was in his head distracted him, did not allow him to find words.
"You're alive," Crowley's quiet voice said. So quiet that Aziraphale thought he was imagining it.
"What?" He asked in confusion, following the movement of Crowley's lips to make sure that he was really talking.
"You're alive," the demon repeated. Aziraphale didn't understand anything. Again. But he knew for sure that as long as Crowley's face was hidden, he wouldn't be able to understand. Slowly raising his hand, as if he was afraid that Crowley would pull away, Aziraphale took off his glasses. Crowley's yellow eyes were full of tears.
"What happened?" Aziraphale asked quietly, shocked by the sight. Somewhere under the ribs, where the heart was beating, it pricked. Not enough to be a full-fledged feeling, but enough to give hope that all is not lost. Crowley sighed noisily, causing a tear to fall and flow down his cheek. Aziraphale noticed Crowley starting to shake.
"Metatron…" Crowley began, but his voice broke. He was silent again for a couple of seconds to pull himself together, and Aziraphale waited patiently. "Metatron said you were killed."
Aziraphale felt as if he had been doused with cold water.
"He said you rebelled. They tried to stop you. Michael went to extreme measures. I didn't believe it. Metatron showed his memories. And your body," Crowley's voice was ragged and hoarse. And every word he said broke Aziraphale from the inside. Like glass, the barriers that Metatron had so carefully built in his head were cracking. His heart ached fully from the realization of why Crowley was here now.
"I'm alive," was all Aziraphale could say. And even these words came to him with difficulty. He put his palm to Crowley's cheek and wiped the wet path with his thumb, proving that he was really here, that he was alive and would never leave again. Crowley closed his eyes, tilting his head, pressing against Aziraphale's palm. It wasn't enough.
With his other hand, he grabbed the demon's face, pulled it to him and kissed. Bitterly and tenderly. Crowley's lips were trembling, but he answered as if Aziraphale was about to dissolve. But he wasn't going anywhere. On the contrary, he took a step forward to be right next to Crowley, to feel his tense and burning body.
Crowley's hands were on Aziraphale's waist and gripped the cloak, pulling the Archangel closer. And the kiss became more confident and deeper. Aziraphale realized that he still felt too little, tried not to show it, allowing the force that brought him here to act for himself. Tears rolled down his cheeks, too.
Crowley broke the kiss first, sucking air noisily into his lungs. Aziraphale didn't even notice that he hadn't been breathing all this time. Crowley stared at Aziraphale for a couple of seconds, as if he still didn't believe it was true, and then hugged him tightly.
Thousands of demons and Gabriel remained frozen in time, but they will be dealt with later. The rest of the world didn't exist for these two now.
They stood hugging each other, knowing that they would not lose each other again.