Well, That Was A Thing (Good Omens One-Shots)

51; Quiet Prayers In The Dark

Context: Inspired by a friend pointing out Aziraphale possibly mouthing "We need help" during the Final 15 in the S2 finale, as well as this Tumblr post: https://www.tumblr.com/itchiefeet/765508344151670784

Aziraphale and Crowley find a way to communicate after the angel goes back to Heaven.

Word Count: 2,600

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Angels can hear prayers that are aimed for them. General prayers go straight to The Prayers Department. Specific angel ones have always gone to the angels themselves. They then have to write a report of it and submit it to The Prayers Department. Now, if an angel doesn't submit said report, no one in Heaven would know the prayer even happened.

Crowley knew this. Back when the system was first designed, he had criticized it. He said it made no sense to do it this way. That, if an angel wanted to, they could just ignore the prayer and it'd never make it up to God's ears. He also knew that they hadn't improved the system after millennia either, because he heard Saraqael muttering under her breath in the lift, on their way back down to Earth. She was upset about having to make a report for a prayer she was just receiving. She dictated it to Muriel and they sent it to the department.

Those stubborn bastards never changed their ways. And Crowley planned to use this to his advantage. After all, he had to let Aziraphale know he'd gotten his message.

~~~~~

It was midnight. Crowley had been going back and forth for the past hour, wondering if it was a good night for this. It felt like a storm was about to start, any second now. He could feel the rumble of thunder on the other side of town. He knew the weather had no impact on receiving prayers. And yet, he wondered if he should leave it for a more quiet night.

He stopped overthinking the matter and went to his office. He got a candle, placing it on the center of the desk. He lit it with a snap of his fingers. The demon joined his hands. He took a deep breath before shutting his eyes and speaking.

Aziraphale. Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Principality of Earth, Supreme Archangel of all Heaven, do you hear my prayer?

~~~~~

Aziraphale felt a chill go down his spine and a warmth bloom in his chest. He looked around and confirmed he was alone. After being sure, he focused on the feeling. He had never felt anything like this. And yet, it was an incredibly familiar sensation. Well, the voice was, anyway. He couldn't believe it.

Crowley?

Got your message, angel.

Aziraphale felt like he might start sobbing, thanks to the relief that washed over him. He found some files that needed organizing, to keep his body busy. This way, if anyone came into his office, they wouldn't be able to tell he was receiving a prayer. Much less know that he was having a full blown conversation with a demon.

Internally, Aziraphale braced himself before asking: How angry are you with me?

Livid.

Oh.

But not as enraged as I was last week, when you left.

Oh...

Though, I must admit: the rage was how I found your message in the first place. Had I not been reliving the moment over and over again, seething, I would have just gone on with my life. Hating you for the rest of my existence.