Scales

An explanation

Crowley leaned against a support, his sunglasses still hiding his true feelings.

Aziraphale sat down in his usual chair, but not in a relaxed manner. He was stiff, sitting upright with his hands cradling each other in his lap.

Crowley didn't want to be the one to break the silence, but he knew Aziraphale wasn't going to address anything if he didn't initiate it. "Why'd you come back, Aziraphale?"

The demon's words stung. Aziraphale's heart sank. "I... Crowley.." Crowley never called Aziraphale by his name unless he was 1: scared (like the bookshop fire). 2: talking about him to Heaven or Hell, or 3: upset with him. Clearly this wasn't 1 or 2.

"What? You what?" Crowley felt like hiding in the darkest corner he could find, setting the world on fire, and grabbing the angel and simply holding him forever all at the same time.

"Are you... upset... with me?" His voice cracking, tears almost forming.

"Am-... am I upset with you?! Yes! Yes, Aziraphale, I am! I have stood by your side, risking everything to simply be near you, to be in your damned lovely presence! I defended you against Hell, more times than you know! After millennia of hiding it I finally work up the courage to tell you my feelings. Feelings, Aziraphale! I don't do feelings. But I set my pride, my ego, my mind aside to tell you! And your response? You turned around and left me." Crowley's voice was filled with rage and hurt and... love?

Aziraphale watched in shock as the demon paced around the pillar, a hand in his pocket and the other ran through his hair.

".....What are your feelings?" Aziraphale didn't understand. What did he mean "feelings"? That he cared about him? Yeah, they're friends, friends care about each other.

"Seriously?... forget it." Crowley turned around, rushing out of the shop. Aziraphale thought he had noticed a tear on the demon's cheek. Was he...?

IN THE BENTLEY

Crowley sat, draped over the wheel, tears falling to his legs as he stared towards the ground.

Aziraphale stood up from his seat, walking towards the door and looking out of the window. He spotted the Bentley still in her spot. "Where'd he go? I need to check on him.." Aziraphale left the shop, and seeing a silhouette seated in the Bentley. "Oh.."

He approached slowly, stopping when he saw the demon's shoulders twitch. He was sobbing. Full blown sobbing.

Aziraphale turned back around, going back into the shop and grabbing his mobile phone. "If I could just remember how to use this....aha!" He sent a text to his friend.

>Come back, dear.
>Please...

He made some coffee for Crowley and tea for himself, sitting at the couch as he waited, trying to hold back tears of his own.

The door opened hesitantly, the dark figure sauntering in, his shades covering his puffy eyes. "Whaddya want."

"To talk... please, dear?"

"Don't call me that." He sat down across from Aziraphale.

Completely ignoring what Crowley had said, he continued, "Please tell me what you meant by 'feelings'?".

"Why'd I do that?"

"Because I have feelings about you, too, and I'd like to know if they're the same..."

"They're not."

"How would you know?!"

Crowley snapped, throwing off his shades and standing up. Tears streaming down his cheeks, smoky trails following them. "BECAUSE, AZIRAPHALE, NO ONE AS LOVELY, AND PERFECT, AND BEAUTIFUL, AND KIND AS YOU COULD EVER LOVE A STUPID EVIL SERPENT LIKE ME. YEAH? MAKE SENSE? BECAUSE I'M ONE OF 'THE BAD GUYS', A DEMON, A FALLEN ANGEL, A SINNER, I AM THE SIN. SO DON'T YOU SIT HERE AND ACT AS IF THERE'S A CHANCE IN THIS AWFUL EXISTENCE THAT I COULD EVER BE LOVED BY YOU THE WAY I LO-love.. you..."