Forget Me Not

Hundreds of lifetimes

Kicking Rory out took almost half an hour and Crowley's a bit worried that their friendship might be permanently altered. He figures it'll probably be altered by the whole demon-thing also. Tory was only crossed because he truly worried for Crowley, though. He wasn't going to leave, either.

Crowley figured he could use some demonic mojo and it worked. A lot of things make more sense now, about how he's been able to make things happen if he really wanted them to. His miracle sales were acts of demonic intervention. He understands now how he was able to walk into a reputable car dealership with no experience, no personal documents to even prove his existence and walk out with a job.

Crowley didn't like making Rory leave but the matter at hand is time-sensitive. It's what he had to do, plain and simple.

Now that the demon is alone with his memories in hand he's got to get them back into his head. He has no idea how exactly to do this. He decides to just do whatever feels right.

Crowley sits at the foot of his bed. He picks the tape from around the lip of the tin and brings the container up close to his face. Crowley cracks the lid and a transparent vapor wafts from the opening. It knows exactly where it's supposed it go. The vapor streams into Crowley's nostrils and mouth as if he were inhaling it but also into his eye sockets. Crowley's eyes roll back for the few seconds that it takes for the mist to enter his head.

When it's over Crowley gasps for air. He's experienced hundreds of lifetimes in mere seconds. It's truly overwhelming. Crowley grabs at the sheets and fights for breath. He slips off the bed and onto his knees on the floor.

He sits up straight, holding his stomach and chuckles. "That was- that was more than I wanted to remove." He gulps down thick saliva. "Maybe I shouldn't of preformed brain surgery drunk," he jokes to himself.

Coping with dark humor? Seems my forte. Crowley shuts his eyes tight. If he thought he was lonely the past few months, with his human friends, he now realizes that he had no idea what loneliness is. "Fuck!" He cusses at the floor. His demonic life has covered all of human history and then some and in that long expanse he's only ever had a single being to really consider his friend.

All of his memories are fresh on his mind but one in particular stands out in this moment. Sitting on a stone in Uz, overlooking the sea. It was a rare moment in his life where he didn't feel quite so alone in his isolation. Aziraphale was there. 2 broken pieces, with jagged edges, that don't fit into their respective places.

The demon folds into himself, holding his stomach. He presses his forehead onto the ground, in between his knees. He lays there in a ball that only a very very flexible human or creature with snake like vertebrae could accomplish. Then Crowley's shoulders begin to move.

Crowley dry sobs into the floor, the cuts of his and Aziraphale's last unskewed interaction fresh. He can almost taste the rosewater and tears on his lips. He can feel the ache of regret from thousands of years of longing all thrown, desperately at the angel's feet. He knows it isn't the time for this but remembering everything was a lot.

His stupid angel had to trust the stupid Metatron and get his stupid ass abducted! Crowley exhales slowly, sits up lazily and used both hands to push his hair up, out of his eyes. He sucks his teeth while thinking. I've got to go save the idiot now. Something tells me this won't be easy.

Crowley snatches his keys off the kitchen floor and makes his way to the Bentley.

***
Hi guys, I'm really sorry it's been so long since I've updated and also that this chapter is so short. I've been having a really tough time finding the motivation to write but I think I've finally got some back. Still I hope you're enjoying and thank you for reading!!!