Short Stories

Thirty-Three: Hell

(A/N): I found this idea off of a YouTube video. It's honestly a great video by Max Wayne, but it's heartbreaking. If you don't want your heart broken, don't watch the video. If you want to laugh at some terrible fanfiction, you've come to the right place. Now, on with the story! (This is from Good Omens if you're wondering.)

Song: Hurts Like Hell by Fleurie

Crowley stood in the rain alone across from Aziraphale's bookshop. His suit was soaked, and he was shivering. But, he didn't feel anything as he stared at the cozy bookshop with hidden eyes. Aziraphale rushed out the bookshop with a white umbrella.

"Crowley, dear! Come inside! You're going to get sick!" Aziraphale exclaimed. Crowley stood motionless, his face was frozen with heartbreak and fear. Aziraphale handed the demon his umbrella with a gentle smile, expectantly waiting for Crowley to give him his signature smirk and a witty remark.

"We can't be together anymore, Aziraphale. You're an angel, and I'm a demon. We're not meant to be together." Crowley stated. Aziraphale blinked at him.

"What?" Aziraphale took a step towards his best friend and dropped his umbrella. The rain soaked his white suit, making it gray and soggy. Crowley turned around to hide the tears that were starting to stream down his face even though no would even be able to tell because of the pouring rain. Aziraphale stood there shocked.

"C-Crowley? Y-you're joking, aren't you?" Aziraphale reached for Crowley's shoulder, but the demon flicked away the angel's hand. Aziraphale flinched from shock. The angel's face started tearing up. Aziraphale turned and ran back to the safety of his bookshop. Crowley put a hand over his mouth as fat tears rolled down his face and mixed with the pelting rain. His hand started shaking as he sobbed quietly. He fell to his knees as his black wings sprouted from his back. He curled his wings around his body, trying to bring himself comfort. But, it didn't help. His heart cried out in pain as if being torn apart. And, the hug wasn't anything like Aziraphale's'. The angels' hugs were warm and comforting, but Crowley's wings were cold and stiff.

Crowley wanted to go find Aziraphale and tell him 'sorry', but he couldn't. He wouldn't hurt Aziraphale again.

Crowley stood before Gabriel, Michael, and Sandalphon, the leaders of Heaven. His former bosses were also there too, Hastur and Beelzebub and the weird snake-face lady, the leaders of Hell.

"What do you want? You told me and Aziraphale you wouldn't bother usss again!" Crowley hissed out. Gabriel rolled his eyes while Hastur growled at him.

"We found out about your little trick, you foul fiend," Michael stated. Crowley's snake-eyes slit, "If you touch one hair on my angel's head-"

"Oh, we won't." Gabriel interrupted. Crowley blinked in surprise.

"We won't hurt Aziraphale at all, as long as you break off your relationship with him. If you don't ...well." Gabriel's hand lifted up and procured an image of Aziraphale. Fire, no, Hellfire engulfed Aziraphale's body. Crowley looked at the archangel with disdain, "You wouldn't."

"Oh, we would." Beelzebub smugly said.

"It's just up to you if he'll get killed or not. Stay with him, and Aziraphale will exist no longer. Or, stay apart and you both get to live." Hastur cackled with delight. Crowley stared at the image of the burning Aziraphale. The flame's image danced in Crowley's eyes.

Crowley stared at the sea, his wings were gone but his rain-soaked suit still clung to his body tightly. Crowley rubbed his red eyes before sobbing again.

Aziraphale was holding hands with Crowley as the angel read his book. A light dusting of pink covered the angel's face while the smug demon rested his head on Aziraphale's shoulder. His glasses were slipping down his nose while admiring his angel's face. He couldn't believe he had found himself someone who understands him and loves him for who he is. Crowley took off his sunglasses to fully admire Aziraphale's face.

Crowley felt like he was drowning in an ocean of his own self-hate. He cried and sobbed on the wet sand of the lonely beach. He suddenly felt like the wet clothes clinging to him was slowly suffocating him. He tore off his coat, shirt, and pants. He threw off his sunglasses revealing his eyes. His eyes revealed hatred and fear. His heartbreak was all to see as his wings tore out his back. Crowley didn't know how long he had sat there in the soggy sand, his heart breaking over and over again as Crowley thought of Aziraphale. Crowley shakily stood up onto his feet.

He retrieved his sunglasses and fixed his clothes. He waved a hand over his wet clothes, and they were dried instantly. Crowley walked aimlessly, trying to distract himself from his pained heart. Unfortunately, Crowley's feet brought him to Aziraphale's little bookshop. Crowley spotted Aziraphale. His back was facing the window, a cup of tea steaming on the counter next to him. The angel held a book in his hands. Crowley desperately wanted to talk to Aziraphale, but he couldn't. Crowley closed his eyes and his heart. When he opened his eyes again, his heart didn't.