Good omens 2.5

An unexpected guest

Crowley fumbles with the bottle cap. There's a loud banging on his door.

"Oi! Fuck off wouldya? 'M tryna fuckin' d-" Crowley doesn't get to finish before his door is kicked in. A huge, muscular demon with a face only a mother could love enters the flat. Crowley stashes the holy water in his coat pocket.

It's probably the alcohol or maybe it's just Crowley but he doesn't really seem to care about his door or the 6'5" demon in his house. Crowley is slumped on the floor, he hardly bothers to look up.

"My name is Akop, dark dominion of hell. I'm looking for the demon, Crowley." Crowley mutters something incoherent. Akop kicks his leg, "hey you!"

"Wot!" Crowley whips he's head around to face him. The demon repeats himself.

Crowley figures this guy will be easy to trick. "Crowley? Wot would ya be needn' with 'im? Mayhaps I could help yah find tha lad, if I know wot for." He just wants this demon to leave so he can get back to it.

Akop searches around the flat as if who he's looking for isn't sprawled on the floor right there. "I must bring him to hell."

"Why?"

"To use as bait."

"Bait?" This actually catches Crowley's attention.

"Yes. For the angel, Aziraphale. He will come to save his demon and hell will have him."

Wait, Aziraphale? Crowley attempts to stand up by his legs slip out from under him. "Why-why d-do youse needs an angel?"

The demon stops for a second to look at Crowley. He turns to him as if Crowley were the stupid one. "To invoke justice, of course. He blew up 70 of hell's finest!"

Crowley burps, "not tah mention made a bloody 'barrassment of Shax, cont reckon she's happy."

"No not at all. Now can you help me locate the demon so the legions of damned can destroy the angel, Aziraphale? Or not?" Akop goes back to searching the same 2 rooms he's been searching. Crowley reckons he doesn't know much about doors.

Wait, wait, this isn't good. Okay, Crowley knows he's got to sober up for this. He squeezes the alcohol from his organs. It's no picnic. His face turns red as he strains. Akop re-enters the room and Crowley quickly stops. Not entirely sober but it'll have to work.

He leaps to his feet. "Right, you found your demon. It's me, Crowley."

Akop's mouth hangs open as he processes what Crowley said then breaks into a triumphant smile. "Crowley, traitor to hell! I order you to come with me and answer for your crimes." He starts towards Crowley, shaking the room with every stomp.

"Wait, easy now!" Akop actually stops. "Uh, let's talk about this." The demon is not satisfied with this answer.

"No talking!" He swats at Crowley. Crowley ducks and a lamp takes the blow instead. It flys across the room. "Hey, get back here!" He lunges again but Crowley is faster. They go in circles around the living room.

"Look, I'll go to hell with you!" Crowley falls over the couch and crawls away.

Akop flips the couch, "yes. You will. As my prisoner."

Crowley is able to slither behind the kitchen island. "Yes. Yes. Just listen for a second." Akop has Crowley cornered behind the counter. Crowley bounds to his right, Akop steps with him. That's not going to work.

"Why do you think that I wouldn't help hell?" Crowley explains. The meat-head demon is thrown off my this.

"Because you are a traitor," he scratches his head.

"Look, I might not be on hell's side but I am certainly not on heaven's." Crowley argues. "Aziraphale IS heaven now. Why would he save me? I didn't even mean enough for him to not abandon me. Fuck heaven and fuck Aziraphale. He's worse than dead to me already," the words come out with such conviction. "Take a seat and we'll hash out a plan to get the winged bastard." It's a rouse of course but maybe just some of the emotions are true. It shocks Crowley how easily those words came to him.

Somehow this makes sense to Akop. Crowley gestures to the bar stood on the ground. Akop retrieves it and takes his seat at the island.

"Alright," Crowley breaths hard, "tell me your, or hell's plan, and I can do my part. Whiskey?" Crowley miraculously fills an empty bottle from the floor. Akop shakes his head. "Don't you know that you can't make a proper deal without drinking on it?"

The demon thinks about it, "fine," he barks. "The plan is to capture the demon, Crowley. Once in our custody we will inflict worlds of pain to the traitor. He will beg for a quick death but the powers of hell will not give it. Pain beyond anything imaginable." Crowley just stares at Akop, bewildered. "A piece of information will be planted with the right angels. Of course there will need to be photo proof to make it convincing. To get the best results the photo must be very persuasive. Very gruesome." Akop says that last word with such joy, it's unnerving. "The angel, Aziraphale, will do whatever it takes to rescue the traitor, even to charge into hell. Then we will have him."

Crowley is shocked. "Okay few points," Crowley turns away to prepare their drinks, "first, I'm not on board for the whole torturing thing." Crowley is shaking while trying to prepare the drinks. He has to be stealthy about this. He reaches into his coat pocket for a small white bottle. His hand trembles with fear. Is isn't fear of being caught, this demon doesn't have 2 brain cells to rub together. What Crowley fears is that hell will get to Aziraphale even when this numb-skull plan doesn't work. "More importantly, Aziraphale won't be coming to save me. He doesn't care about me and even if he did he's never been the knight-in-shining-armor type. Well, except in the Middle Ages, but that was different." Crowley pours whiskey full in one glass and half way in the other.

"If the photo is persuasive enough, your angel with try to save you," Akop laughs.

"No! No he won't." Crowley is tired of this subject, "he won't because people who care about someone else don't just leave them!"Crowley face and ears turn pink. Fuck. He pours just a slash of holy water into the less-full glass. Don't spill. Don't spill. "Also. Not my angel." Crowley places the spiked drink in front of his guest and downs his own. He needs another.

Just then Crowley's cell phone starts to ring. Somehow everything in the apartment got thrown and destroyed but his phone remained face-up on the counter.

Akop snatches it "A-zir-a-pale. With a little picture of an angle and a blue heart. Really?" He crushes Crowley's phone in his fist and tosses it across the room. Crowley knocks the spiked glass over on the counter and the drink floods onto Akop's lap.

Crowley had seen what holy water does to a demon but it's no less horrific with experience. The demon didn't even have time to scream before bursting into flames. Crowley throws his hands over his face to block the light. It's over in seconds but the scene is- well Crowley isn't getting his security deposit back. The ceiling and counter are black. The stool is charred to a crisp. Nothing rivals the stench of burning sulfur. He gags on the fumes.

Crowley knows he needs to get out of here. No idea where but if hell gets to him he won't be able to keep Aziraphale safe. He'll figure out the rest later.

When he gets to the street Bentley is back to his regular black self. Crowley tells his car, "no funny business, I'm not playing," before jumping in and speeding off.

***
Hey, look I know demons just disintegrate in the show but I love the head canon that they burn up. Sue me. Anyways, thanks for reading as always hope you enjoy.