The Body I'm In

Chapter Seven

Summer 2024 (Random Day in July)

Crowley sat there awhile longer. He did not keep track of the time passed. He barely registered the ticking of the clock, (it was one of those clocks that looked like a cat and had one of those tails that moved back and forth), as it marked the passage of time. His mind churned over the evening. The haunted, forlorn expression in Aziraphale's eyes was certainly seared into his mind. The words, so full of pain and anguish flooded his mind. He never really had the best. He didn't know what the best was, Crowley thought, recalling Aziraphale and Gabriel's interactions. He didn't know what it was supposed to be like. He thought what he had was the best that could be. I'm such an oblivious libertine. Shit. I shouldn't have pushed him like that. I should... I should....

He should not be punishing himself like this and he knew that, but Crowley couldn't really help it. I can fix this. I can do things right, the rocker reasoned. He shoved himself off the couch. Wavering on the spot, he paused so as to get his bearings. He was still inebriated. There'd be no driving for him – at least not yet.

Crowley grabbed a couple of the biscuit Aziraphale made for him. Ensuring that his wallet was still with him, he left the apartment and munched on the delectable sweet treat. It was soft and flavorful. The raisins burst in his mouth. Both were gone by the time he found himself in front of a florist shop.

He had not planned to stop anywhere. He just wanted to get back to the charity concert. The flowers called to him though. Aziraphale, he reasoned, would love a bouquet and so Crowley had to stop. He chose a dozen purple roses, paid and headed to the venue.

Wanting to surprise him, Crowley opted to go into the back. He did not want to make a fuss or draw attention away from Aziraphale in his moment, thus this seemed like the best option. He did get stopped, but after explaining how he was with the band, he was allowed to enter. That was easy. Part of him wished it had been harder. That ease of events felt like it was going to end in disaster.

Music filtered from the stage. The drums and guitars sounded heavenly, but what else could be expected with Aziraphale involved? Everything that angelic man touched turned to gold. Distracted by thoughts and still feeling a bit drunk, he only heard bits of pieces of the song.

... personality flaws

... take accountability

...metaphysical

...mistake with me

Crowley's eyes widened. He knew those lyrics. Aziraphale was singing a cover. He knew them from there, of course. It had been awhile since he listened to that song, but the tune was familiar. However, he recognized the music for another reason. Aziraphale had woven them into a conversation they shared. Pushing himself away from the wall, he moved to watch.

At that moment, Aziraphale turned his head. His face was paler than usual. His lips were ashy. Sweat clung to his hair line. "Do you ever see someone and think "Wow, God must hate me"," Aziraphale sang. His voice softened with each syllable. As 'me' trailed off, he crumpled to the ground. The dream stopped. Now there was a nightmare.

The paramedics were called. Upon arrival, Aziraphale was soon loaded into an ambulance. Crowley climbed in behind him. He'd left Aziraphale before. He wasn't about to leave him again. He watched as the paramedics hooked Aziraphale him to heart monitors and oxygen. They worked fast (almost as fast as the speed they traveled. All the while, Aziraphale and Crowley locked eyes and they stayed that way for the whole trip. Nothing said. Nothing needed said. Their gaze said it all.

~*~

Autumn 2019 (Halloween)

Crowley never needed an excuse to celebrate. If there was a chance to dress up and drink booze he was there for it. He donned some red devil horns and tail as well as an all black ensemble (which were just items from his closet) and a pair of Prada boots. The Devil Wears Prada was the first movie he'd seen in a long time that he absolutely loved and could not resist the pun.