Crawling back to you (Hozier's version)

3: A Job, A Flashback, A Wish

Edit: FUCK I FORGOT THE PROPHECY I'M SO SORRY IT'S AT THE BOTTOM OF THE CHAPTER NOW I'M SORRY.
- - -

When Crowley woke up, he felt terrible. He often woke up with that particular feeling, that, whatever he did, it'd be pointless in the end.

But on such days, it felt even better to know that Aziraphale would be in his bookshop, doing whatever, but always open to talk with him or drink some wine.

Not wanting to further think about the realisation that that won't ever happen again, Crowley got up. He looked outside, seeing it was just dawn. He sighed.

"What do you want?" Crowley turned around to look at Shax standing behind him.

"I came to have a chat with you." she said. "I have a proposal, now that you and... the new Supreme Archangel of Heaven aren't a thing anymore. I thought your life would be even more miserable than before, and that's where I come in."

He looked at her. "So me getting stood up is the gossip in Heaven and Hell right now?" when Shax nodded, he added: "What... exactly?"

"You comfessing your everlasting love, him saying no, and you leaving, crying."

"That's... How the hell-" Realisation hit. "Goddamn it, Muriel!" He sighed again, falling back onto his bed. Of course; Muriel watched the scene and told the next person who asked.

Well, at least they didn't say anything about the part when he kissed Aziraphale.

"I want you to come back to Hell."

Uhm. Crowley had not expected that.

"Why?" he demanded.

Her mouth warped into something that looked like a smile. "You have nothing left to lose. I would guess you're furious at Heaven. Again. Your friend chose Heaven over you."

Crowley sat up. "You're incredibly annoying, I should've told you that more often." He let out another far too dramatic sigh. "Yes, fine, alright, I'll think about it."

Shax looked down at him. "Think properly." And she was gone.

Crowley got up again and really contemplated for a moment, noticing his mug of tea still standing beside his bed. He took the cup, sipping on it. It may be cold, but it wasn't too bad.

Hah. Perks of getting tea made by a witch.

Crowley went downstairs, briefly checking up on the Bentley standing in front of the cottage, then into the kitchen, where he met Anathema, sorting cards.

"I..." Crowley thought for a second. He had no idea what to say. "Hello." Wow, how smooth.

"Good morning. You're already up?" Anathema smiled, putting the box away.

"Incredibly senseless question. Do you see me up right now?" he replied, unreasonably annoyed.

She didn't give an answer, just mustered him, just as annoyed. So Crowley went upstairs again, aiming to try again in a few hours. Or tomorrow. Or never.

He threw himself on the bed again, not knowing what to do with himself. He fell asleep once again, deep in thought.

              - A Few Hours To Armageddidn't -

"Have a nice Doomsday!" Crowley turned away, not looking back at Aziraphale, whose exact expression he could imagine uncomfortably well.

Crowley had enough of this. Of him. Of Armageddon. Of absolutely everything and everyone around him.

He went back to the Bentley, to sit in the front seat, not driving yet, but thinking.

When did it start? When did all of this start?

It must've been planned since before the Beginning. God had planned out everything since... forever. Crowley looked at the steering wheel, tapping his fingers against it.

He was sure, that somewhere, God was watching all of this go down and nodding to Herself, noting that everything is going exactly as planned. And it made him furious.

She was doing everything according to Her stupid 'Great Plan' and Heaven, Hell and the whole planet had to fight and/or die. They were the ones suffering just because She was bored.

Stopping Armageddon would be so, so much easier if Aziraphale wasn't having this exhausting inner argument about whether to trust him. His oldest friend. Who just so happened to be a demon.

Crowley trusted Aziraphale with his life. He had since their beginning and The Beginning.

And as he was thinking about it, he thought the whole thing would be so much easier if he was still an angel.

Aziraphale would trust him, they would've seen each other more over the last 6000 years, and perhaps he would have a chance with him as a partner.

But then once again, Crowley wasn't able to become an angel ever again. And that was good. Because in reality, he didn't really want to. All he wanted was to be trusted.

Crowley sighed to himself, finally starting the car. 'Don't Try Suicide' immediately blasted into his ears and he groaned. He was going to figure something out.

He just wanted Aziraphale to trust him.

                                 - Present Day -

Crowley was perfectly fine of course, he was just wondering what Aziraphale was doing right now.

For sure, he must be very busy being the new Supreme Archangel and all. Working with Michael and Uriel.

He's had some time to think about it now, but he was still absolutely sure he didn't want to be an angel again.

He was abandoned once before, and he didn't trust the bullshit Metatron had said to Aziraphale. The only thing he was hoping for was that those angels wouldn't abandon Aziraphale too.

No matter how hurt he was by him, Crowley didn't want him to fall.

It was mostly because it hurt, but also because he didn't want to be pitied by Aziraphale. That was one of the last things he wanted.

When the demon awakes, he shall be enticed and spoken to, offered things of ages past.

While he indulges in memories of the past, you, my girl, shall be destined to seek out the angel's shop.

- - -
Hellooo.
This is a day too late and it's short, my apologies.

(On another note: Thank you SO MUCH for the votes and reads and stuff, it means a lot. Mwah.)

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