Good Omens Crowley x Reader

Part 11.

Y/N had written a letter and she was satisfied with it. It read:

 "Dear Angel working for the Almighty, 

There might have been a misunderstanding regarding my work with the most recent world war on earth. I have not underperformed in my work ever, and I never wanted to, that is why I talked to the man responsible for the world war myself and several henchmen. I tried to change his mind in every way possible. I did this by convincing his henchmen of his cruel deeds and afterward I talked to him myself. His eyes were mad and of a stonecold killer, there was no life in those eyes, nothing except gray endless emptiness. I tried everything I could, but I could not convince him. Please forgive me for the mistakes I have made, but they were out of my control.
When I return I will continue my exemplary work, I will take courses and resume my exemplary work as soon as I return.

I look forward to hearing back from you.

Sincerely,

Angel Y/N."

The letter she had written came from a lot of emotions Y/N had build up. The last line of hand-written text stung in her chest. She laid down the pen and got back to her coffee. Her house which was empty but cozier than anything upstairs didn't bother her too much. But when sitting in it for a long while she got claustrophobic and felt like she had to get out of there, and often she did just that. She sent the letter with a wave of her hand and sooner than later she knew it would arrive in its destined place in Heaven.

She never presumed she would actually get a reply. Maybe someone would just come to get her and take her back to heaven. The thing was, it never happened. A day went by, a week, two weeks and Y/N had given up. She walked and walked, trying to accept anything that has been going on. She didn't run into Hastur, Aziraphale, or Crowley in the time that she had spent waiting for a reply and she was glad about that. It was also the only thing she could be glad about right now. 

It was exactly the fifteenth day after she had sent the letter, not that Y/N realized this. She had completely lost track of the days. The only thing she still did consistently was walking. She didn't talk to anybody, didn't eat breakfast or lunch but only made a quick pasta for herself every day after walking and then went to bed to wake up the next to walk again. Most of the time didn't even know where she was going, and the same happened today. The road wasn't familiar at all, but she didn't mind it regardless if it was or wasn't she just went. London looked more gray than usual, more clouds were looming over the heads of unsuspecting Londoners and our protagonist. 

Not soon after, the gray sky burst open and big drops of rain were falling on Y/N her blank face. She didn't look like she was getting any better from her walks. She barely noticed that the rain around her had stopped and that there was someone now walking beside her, holding a shielding umbrella above her head. She didn't look to see who it was, the presence she felt made it clear, but she wasn't feeling like talking. She was not feeling like anything to be completely honest. 

"You're a wreck. Don't tell me you have actually written the letter?" Shre shrugged. "Whatever, it doesn't matter now, does it? I didn't get a reply, and I never will. Nothing changes." Crowley stayed silent, he knew it was true and that if she wrote she would not get a reply. He thought it was obvious but it was a long time since he had fallen and he barely remembered what it was like. 

"Let me escort you home at least." Y/N shrugged again and followed Crowley who was walking her speed. She didn't bother looking around still. Crowley glanced to his left to Y/N, her head was hanging- as if it was too heavy of a burden upon her shoulders, and her posture was slouched. She looked exhausted, Crowley had a moment of clarity at that moment and knew what he had to do there and then. He took a few extra turns and, kept walking appreciating the silence. He knew that whatever he said now wouldn't make a difference, she just needed someone to look after her and he knew for a fact he wasn't the one to do so.

Soon enough Y/N and Crowley ended up somewhere and Crowley knocked on the door. By this point and for the first time in days, she looked up. "This isn't my door." She barely managed to mutter out before the door opened...