you were it

It had been two months since Aziraphale had last been on Earth. Two months since he had last seen Crowley in-person. Two months since he left said demon for heaven.

Well, it wasn’t exactly like that, Aziraphale would reason. Of course, many, Crowley included, would hardly agree with Aziraphale’s reasoning. But still… Whatever helped the angel sleep better at night, right? If angels slept, that was.

Parting with Crowley had been devastating, especially after everything that had been said, been felt, and especially after the way Crowley had kissed Aziraphale.

Aziraphale swore he could still feel the tingle in his lips when he thought about it.

The guilty, heartbroken feeling had swirled in the pit of Aziraphale’s stomach daily since he had left. But getting up that elevator to heaven, Aziraphale genuinely believed he was making the right choice; he could change things and make a difference.

No, it had taken all but three days to realise the truth. He could not make the difference he sought. God’s so-called ineffable plan was inflexible, even when holding such a higher authoritative position. But he couldn’t just leave heaven just like that, no. He had to make a statement, make an impact. He had to do something to address all the, quite frankly, awful decisions God and heaven had made over the years. He owed that at the very least to all the life that had been needlessly lost over the years due to God’s own whims.

So what did he do? He fucked shit up internally, in subtle ways so he wouldn’t be immediately discovered. It honestly didn’t take much work—heaven was a barely functioning unit at the best of times. He was only disappointed that Crowley wasn’t there to witness the gradual deterioration.

So, after two months, his plan was complete and he descended back down to Earth, leaving heaven a shitshow of a mess. He informed Muriel that they were needed back in heaven and he happily took back his bookshop.

It took all of two minutes before Maggie came running in.

“I thought I was seeing things, but it’s really you, Mr. Fell! You’re back!” Maggie said.

“That I am,” Aziraphale said, with a little nod. He miracled some people outside walking by the record store, as he really wished to speak to Crowley first. “And I believe you have customers.”

“Customers?” Maggie looked out towards her record shop. “Oh! Customers! Right. Well, we’ll resume this conversation later,” she said, before dashing out. “Glad you’re back!”

Aziraphale sighed.

He really needed to find Crowley. But where to start? The demon had an uncanny ability to pop up whenever Aziraphale needed him, unfortunately the opposite hadn’t always been true.

But when he saw it, Aziraphale’s eyes widened. There was a familiar head of red hair, across the street. Crowley. He was seated out the front of Nina’s coffee shop, reading a newspaper. Nina served him some kind of cake, even though in all the time Aziraphale had known him he hadn’t been one for desserts. A lot could change in two months, Aziraphale supposed.

Taking a deep breath, garnering some courage, Aziraphale exited the bookshop and hurried across the street.

But just as he was about to approach Crowley’s table, he caught wind of what was being said and ducked behind the corner wall. He watched the back of Crowley’s head intently.

“It’s never too late to get back onto online dating!” Nina said. “Or I have a friend I could set you up with, if you wanted?”

Crowley groaned. “No, I’m not interested.”

“Okay but—”

Crowley sighed. “When will you lot get it? Aziraphale was it for me. There is nobody else. There will be nobody else. And in case you didn’t notice, he fucked off to heaven! That’s it. Done! Over! The end!”

Aziraphale’s eyes were wide open, his bottom lip sore from worrying it with his teeth.

When Nina didn’t respond, just looked at him sympathetically, Crowley tossed the newspaper onto the table, and stood from his chair.

Aziraphale, not wanting to let another moment slip by, leaped forward, grabbing hold of Crowley’s arm.

When their eyes met, it was as if time stood still for those moments.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley said, tone of surprise ever present.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, smiling. “Oh, how I’ve missed you.”

That seemed to slap the surprise out of Crowley as he pulled back from Aziraphale. His eyes were now guarded—something Aziraphale could always tell by the demon’s eyebrows, and his body language was closed off.

“Oh, boy. Wait ‘til Maggie hears about this,” Nina said before walking off.

“You’re wrong, Crowley,” Aziraphale started. “You were it for me too. You still are and always will be.”

Crowley turned his head to the side. “Yeah, well. That ship has sailed.”

“That’s not what it sounded like,” Aziraphale said.

Crowley’s eyes narrowed back on Aziraphale. “You don’t get to dictate my feelings. In case you forgot: you left! That’s all I have to—” Crowley’s voice trailed off and his eyebrows shot up as he looked past Aziraphale’s shoulder.

“Aziraphale!” came the angry, loud booming voice of an angel all too familiar.

Aziraphale cringed at the sound.

“What did you do, angel?” Crowley said.

“Just what should’ve been done from the start,” Aziraphale said. He quickly took hold of Crowley’s hand. “If this is my end, let it be known that I love you, Crowley.” Aziraphale let go, ignoring the confusion on Crowley’s face. He took a deep breath and turned around. It was time to face the music, so to speak.

When he turned around, Aziraphale was greeted by the sight of a very red and very angry Metatron.

“Aziraphale! How dare you! I never would have picked you for a traitor!”

Aziraphale held up his hands placatingly. “Metatron, with all due respect, I could not permit a second coming to needlessly destroy all life on Earth.”

Metatron frowned. “But it is all part of God’s plan. Are you questioning Her choices?”

Clenching his fists, Aziraphale stood tall. “When it brings needless harm to the very people She is meant to love and care for, then yes! Too much life has been lost for no good reason and I will not stand for it any longer!”

“I see,” Metatron said, assessing Aziraphale. His gaze turned cold. “You have been compromised.”

“No, I think not. I’ve realised the truth. The truth that took me an awfully long time to understand, and caused some rather avoidable heartbreak in the process.”

Metatron’s gaze locked onto something behind Aziraphale. “Ah, yes. You mean the demon, Crowley.”

Aziraphale’s eyes widened. “No! He’s not involved in this! Leave him be!”

Metatron sent a brief, pitying look his way. “It was always him, wasn’t it? From the very second you met as angels. She really should’ve cast you aside from the moment you let him slither into the Garden of Eden.”

“Well, She didn’t. Did She?” Crowley said, stepping in-line with Aziraphale. Aziraphale’s heart hammered in his chest. After everything… Crowley was still backing him up. He really did not deserve this being. This so very kindhearted, loyal, caring being. To think that Aziraphale had foolishly once denied to his face that they were friends. To think that he had walked out on him, after Crowley had practically spilled his heart out to him.

He really had made quite a number of ill-thought choices in the name of God’s version of ‘good’, hadn’t he?

Aziraphale took a deep breath and reached for Crowley’s hand. Crowley stiffened momentarily but allowed for Aziraphale to intertwine their fingers. He cast a glance at Crowley and hoped his expression encompassed everything he couldn’t say in that moment. He would most assuredly be having a long conversation with Crowley after, but given their current circumstances he settled for, “Thank you.” Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s hand.

Crowley squeezed back and they faced Metatron head on. Together.