Small good omens angst prompts/writings

2

The days had seemed endless up in heaven, it was always bright, he knew it had been years since he'd become supreme Archangel, he just didn't know what year it was

He went over to the edge and decided he really did want to be with Crowley, Aziraphale fell, all the way down to hell.

He needed to find Crowley, he'd first searched London, then the rest of earth, he went down to hell and looked around, once he hadn't found Crowley, he finally asked where he was.

Dagon looked at him in defeat. "That's a name I haven't heard in years" they said.

"How many years?" Aziraphale inquired, curiously.

Dagon looked at him. "I wanna say fifteen"

Okay, so it had been fifteen years, but how was this relevant?

Dagon continued. "He hasn't been here, nor has he been spoken about, poor bastard"

Aziraphale was getting frustrated. "What does this have to do with anything?!" He asked, "where is Crowley??"

Dagon looked Aziraphale in the eye.

"Crowley broke into a church those fifteen years ago and doused himself in the holiest of water."