I like to think that the first couple episodes of series 3 will include at least a few scenes where Crowley is camped out in Nina's coffee shop. He's angrily chugging shots mixed with whiskey, Nina keeps on trying to give him decaf to mitigate the damage but it doesn't appear to be working, all whilst ranting about Aziraphale but in a manner that makes it abundantly clear that he misses him dearly. Nina, after sharing numerous "are you hearing this?" glances with Maggie eventually asks, "...so do you want him to come back to Earth?"
"No, course not! Why would you even suggest that?"
"It just sounds like you miss him," Maggie mentions, reaching out to pat the top of Crowleys hand in a manner that reminds him so much of Aziraphale he almost flinches.
"'M a demon," he grumbles, tossing back another mugful. "I don't miss people- especially not Supreme Archangels who leave their only friend on Earth to fuck off back to a place that tried to kill him."
"Really? Because you've been groaning for the past hour how you no longer have someone to tease, or go to dinner with, or how fluffy his hair is-"
"I DO NOT MISS HIM!" Crowley's hands slam down onto the table, steam pooling out of his nose. "Do I miss our alcoholic ventures to the Ritz? Yes. But I just like alchohol," Nina and Maggie both eye the two now empty whisky bottles next to him. "Do I miss our weird talks? Sure. But he left me, and now I'm making it a point to not miss him or his silly little love of old music and wine, or how he looks at me whenever I bring him a book, or how he always offers to pay for dinner but I always beat him to it-"
Crowley stills for a moment.
Then several more.
"I-," he starts, before shoving his glasses up the slope of his nose. "I don't miss him. I just want to make sure Heaven doesn't destroy what we worked so hard to save- and if that means he's gone then fine."
It wasn't fine.
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Things Left Unsaid
Cute sad moments is how I cope ok
1.2k words of soft Aziracrow angst
s2 spoilers!
~~~~~~
Crowley paced the shelves of the bookshop. He always did. If there was nothing else to do, then he would spend his days looking over the dragon's hoard of literature that built up over the past millenia or so. Why was he there anyway? Perhaps waiting for something? But Heaven knows - no, he knows - that what he's hoping for isn't going to return.
The new guardian of the shop found this to be a normal occurrence now. She would watch the demon wander aimlessly for hours at a time, keeping an eye out for nothing at all.
Muriel occasionally brought him pastries and to-go coffees, by Nina's recommendation, so that he wasn't walking a marathon indoors on an empty stomach.
After far too long of walking toward an unattainable destination - onlookers could argue he'd carved a groove in the hardwood floor of the path he'd followed - his legs led him to the chair of Aziraphale's desk in the bookshop's study.
They collapsed beneath him as he finally sat, the overworked limbs numb from use. Now that he was still, he was exhausted. His whole body felt heavy, weighed down nearly equally by fatigue and sorrow. His eyelids were heavy, and after a moments' hesitation, he let them close.
The door's bells chimed, not necessarily uncommon for this time of day, but the footsteps that followed made their way...right to him.
"...Crowley..."
The demon froze and his eyes shot open, now quite awake and very aware of his surroundings.
He scrambled to his feet, pulling his glasses off his face, hoping this wasn't some sort of trick of the lighting.
He reached out, tentatively, as if the being in front of him were to shatter or vanish at his touch.
"Angel?"
Aziraphale gently took hold of his outstretched hand, his crystal blue eyes gazing lovingly at Crowley.
He took a breath, then opened his mouth to speak. "Crowley, i-"
Nothing else got through. The angel was cut off, his lips interrupted as the demon pulled him into a tender embrace, and an even gentler kiss.
This one was different than the last time.
Last time was rough, aggressive...afraid. a desperate pull, a final plea for Aziraphale to see things from Crowley's perspective. Begging him not to leave.
But this one?
Both angel and demon were clinging to one another with the same level of need. The same want, the same desire. The same mournful feeling of having missed the other for so long. Crowley's fingers curled in the hair at the nape of Aziraphale's neck, and Aziraphale, still quite unsure what to do, rested his hands on Crowley's back.
The kiss broke breathlessly, the pair leaning their foreheads together. Neither dared to break contact with the other, lest his beloved vanish before him. As long as they could feel one another, they would remain. As long as they held each other, they were real.
Aziraphale reached up, gently swiping tears off the demon's cheeks with his thumbs. "Please don't cry, Crowley..." he whispered.
Crowley shook his head, reaching up to hold the angel's hand against his cheek. "I...i didn't think you would come back..."
"I'm so, so sorry, Crowley, I really am," Aziraphale said gently, looking up at him. "I was so...overwhelmed by heaven's offer...and...i...I really did think I would be able to make a difference. I thought that...together, I - we could..."
"Doesn't matter," Crowley muttered, pulling his angel into a tight hug. "Because you're back. You're here. We're together again. And-" he took a shaky breath. "I can tell you what I wanted to say before..."
He stepped back, taking both of Aziraphale's hands into his own. He breathed steadily through his nose, gazing intently into his eyes. Those eyes he missed so much, those eyes that, no matter what else changed over time, were always the same gorgeous sapphire shade. No matter what happened, he knew his angel would stay the same.
"Aziraphale...i- ngk-" his voice caught in his throat, and he took another breath. "I'll spare you the dramatics. I think I used 'em all up last time anyway." He let out a weak chuckle. "...i...I love you, Aziraphale. I don't know how long I have, maybe always, but I need to say it now. You're the only thing I know I can count on. You're everything to me, and you always have been. You were my first, only, and best friend, and my heart broke when I thought i lost that. It's unfortunate that it's taken this long for me to say so, I know...but...we have the rest of, well, forever, to try and figure this out. And no matter what comes..." he squeezed their hands. "We can do it together."
As he spoke, Aziraphale's eyes welled with tears, and for the second time in existence, he found himself completely speechless. He reached up and kissed his demon once more, pouring his entire heart into their embrace. He didn't know what to say, he couldn't find the words. The depth and feeling of everything he could never tell was coming out through his actions now, or at least he'd hoped so.
When they parted for breath, he hugged him tightly. His entire body was shaking as the tears spilled over his cheeks, feeling too overwhelmed to say everything he wanted. After a long moment, he finally pulled himself together enough to whisper, "I love you too, Crowley."
They held each other for a long time, neither wanting to let go.
"Crowley...?"
"Yeah?"
"Crowley...."
"I heard you, angel...what is it?"
"Mister Crowley, are you okay?"
"...why are you talking like that, what's going on?" He opened his eyes.
Muriel stood over him, shaking his shoulder gently. "Mister Crowley, you're crying...you were sleeping..."
The demon sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. He was still at the desk. Still sitting. His legs still burned from walking so much. Tears blurred his vision and he felt like he couldn't breathe. He felt like everything was shaking. Muriel studied his expression intently. "...are you alright?"
Crowley let out a long sigh, putting his glasses back on and lightly pushing her aside as he stood up. "Im fine."
The young angel looked at him worriedly, while he made his way to the shop's door. "Where are you going?"
He sneered, pushing open the door with a familiar ding. "I need a drink."
โ
The Archangel Aziraphale looked at the square, a little window to Earth that he couldn't quite call a screen. His vision blurred with tears and his shoulders shook as he watched Crowley empty another glass.
They'd been apart like this before, but...this time he felt further away than they ever had been in six thousand years.
Due to his new assignment, he couldn't leave Heaven...no matter how much he wanted to.
He'd remembered stories through history where angels visited in dreams, and he wanted to try. It worked, but not nearly as long as he had hoped it would.
He didn't get to say what he wanted to. It always seemed to work out like that. His heart ached with everything he couldn't say. "Im so sorry, Crowley...."
He sighed, closing the 'window' and slumping down in his desk. "If only I could've asked you to forgive me..."
He choked back a sob and held his head, the angel's cries echoing in the empty, endless halls of what humans called paradise.
~~~~~~
Thanks for reading! :]
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