As he sits at a table with a bottle of something in front of his empty glass, Crowley closes his eyes and speaks Aziraphale's name lowly. Almost as if he's praying to him, in a weird way he is. He's hoping that his friend is still alive, hoping that he didn't lose someone important to him, hoping that his friend for 6,000 years hadn't left him, hoping that his daughter didn't have to lose someone because of him. To Crowley, this is his fault. If he hadn't become fond of the angel then this whole situation would have never happened, if he hadn't brought his daughter around Aziraphale then maybe she wouldn't be as hurt as she is. All of his thoughts are interrupted when he hears the familiar accent he had become accustomed to after all these years.
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Andromeda wakes for the third time that night, without even needing to move around the girl can tell her father isn't around. So, she sits up from her bed, walks to her father's version of a garden, and begins to check them for any spots of any kind. After all, her father doesn't take kindly to spots. As she checks the plants, the young girl begins feeling a sort of relief wash over her. That feeling comes as a shock considering the events of the night, Andromeda puts her hand to her heart and steps back from the plants with confusion in her face as clear as the night without clouds. The red-head moves to the front of her father's chair and does what she would do if he were here, she sits cross-legged in front of it and breathes deeply. "Crowley." She mutters as she closes her eyes and finds her breathing rhythm, "Crowley." She says again, this time louder than the first, the name weird on her tongue as she says it. Since she isn't used to saying her father's real name she forces herself to keep from laughing in order to connect to him fully, "Crowley." Andromeda repeats once again before hearing her father's voice, "I lost my best friend." His voice breaks and there's a pause before another voice she recognizes speaks, "I- I'm sorry to hear it." AZIRAPHALE! The young girl thinks before she disconnects from her father out of pure shock and joy, mentally scolding herself before she clasps her hands together with pure bliss emitting from her being. All she can think of is her angel friend being alive, but how? She saw the fire, she saw him being swallowed by the flames, her father told her that he didn't make it in time. The confusion overrides the joy before she freezes in place, " I saw him go up in flames, the bookshop did too unless.... That must be it. Maybe he didn't get burned but his vessel did." Andromeda begins muttering about the possibilities, about the Armageddon supposedly coming, about her friend being alive, everything becomes clearer to her as she rambles to the plants as much as herself. "There has to be a way to stop this 'End of the World' thing. I've grown to like this place." Andromeda spins on her heels towards the plants, "Plus I don't want to lose my precious garden. I've just gotten it where it needs to be." They seem to hum in response, almost like they didn't want to die either.
Finishing her sentence with a clap of her hands, the young girl walks over to the telephone and begins dialing her father's number. Right as she dials the last digit, Crowley saunters through the door, "Hello, Starlet. Not much time to explain but we need to get to Tadfield." Andromeda looks at her father with hope in her eyes, "Saving the world I'm guessing?" She questions, though she knows the answer, Crowley doesn't respond with anything other than a slight posture change from his daughter's words. "Mustn't keep them waiting I suppose. Shall we?" The young girl confidently grabs her knives she keeps stored under a loose floorboard and walks towards the exit of the flat, only needing to look behind her once to make sure her father follows. Crowley looks at his daughter's eyes and sees the fire in them, almost as if they were made of it, without talking he follows her before passing her to get to the Bentley first. Andromeda smirks to herself as she becomes like her fathers shadow, they never speak until they get to the Bentley.
