The End of the World...Again? [Good omens/S3]

13

The atmosphere in the bookshop was filled with the smell of coffee, tea, and biscuits, and the sound of laughter echoed through the room.

"Mmmmm?" —he stirred, still half asleep.

His body ached as though a truck had run him over. He shifted on the bed and stretched, but when he tried to raise his left arm, a sharp pain forced him to pull it back to his chest.

"Ouch." —He opened his shirt and saw a long mark beside his shoulder, near his chest. "What's this?"

Then he remembered everything: the fight, the demons, the angels, Raphiel, the flaming sword, and Aziraphale. He got out of bed and left the room. He was on the second floor of the bookshop, which showed no signs of damage; it looked as good as new. He followed the sound of laughter until he reached the kitchen, where he found Muriel, Raphiel, and Aziraphale. Aziraphale was making pancakes, tossing them skilfully into the air, but when their eyes met, he dropped the last one. He quickly picked it up, placed the pan back on the stove, turned it off, and walked over to him.

"Welcome to the land of the living" —he said with a big smile.

Crowley felt confused, but then he looked at Aziraphale. His hair was full of beautiful platinum curls, and his cheeks sported a light-growing beard. His clothes were back to what they had been before. Crowley took a few steps forward and looked into his eyes. There was no trace of purple anymore, just his beautiful blue eyes with stars in them. Unable to hold back, he stepped closer and embraced him tightly.

"You're here..." —he said, still unable to believe it.

"And I don't plan on going anywhere for a long time" —Aziraphale replied, returning the hug.

"Well, well, look who's awake" —said Muriel, appearing. "You nearly..." —she pulled a little notebook from her pocket. "... stayed stuck to the bed" —she said finally.

Muriel always carried a little notebook with her where she wrote down everything she learned from humans: phrases, jokes, and things like that.

"What? How long did I sleep?" —he asked.

Aziraphale looked at him with an expression of reluctance to answer but still said "Well... Let's say about a month, give or take. We thought you wouldn't wake up." -He glanced briefly at Raphiel.

She hadn't gotten up, facing away from the small group, but it wasn't out of rudeness—she simply didn't want Crowley to see her, still regretful and embarrassed. Of course, the demon wasn't one to stay behind.

"A month... Impressive..." —he said, moving towards Raphiel. He placed both hands on her shoulders and gave them a squeeze. "Well... I'm still alive. Should I worry about you losing control again, or will you be a good girl?" —he asked with a teasing smile.

Raphiel pursed her lips, stood up, and hugged the demon. "I'm sorry, I promise that won't happen again, Uncle Crowley."

"Uncle?" —Crowley smiled and looked at her, then something caught his attention: she was wearing his glasses. He moved back to get a better look at her. She seemed like a small copy of him with touches of Aziraphale. She wore a tartan skirt, tights, black boots, a sleeveless top, and her hair was tied in a high ponytail with a fringe covering part of her forehead. Her hair now had blonde highlights. The snake that had once been coiled around his finger had grown and was now wrapped around her wrist like a bracelet, its head sticking out over the back of her hand. What caught his attention the most were the glasses. Crowley reached out, took them, and removed them. To his surprise, her right eye was a beautiful sky-blue, while her left remained amber.