Ineffable Omens (Crowley x Aziraphale)

An Apology to the Forgotten

 Aziraphale was prepared to sit on that park bench for weeks if he thought Crowley would show up. He would have preferred that to what actually happened. He showed up to the park bench, only to find a note already sitting there.

I'm sorry, was all it read.

"That's it?" Aziraphale said aloud. "You're not coming?" He shook his head. "You bastard!" he yelled out. "You lying bastard. Why can't you show your damned face?" In anger, he kicked the park bench, and then the tears that had been filling up in his eyes for, honestly, the past six years, started pouring down. "I hate you," he said weakly. "I hate you, I hate you, I hate you."

Crowley hated to see his friend like his. He was in his snake form, curled up around a branch in a tree near Aziraphale. All he wanted to do was to reach out and comfort Aziraphale, but he couldn't, knowing that he was the one who had hurt him.

Aziraphale's eyes widened and he whipped his head around. "You son of a bitch, you know I can feel you there." His eyes scanned the park for Crowley, and the snake slithered backwards, hiding behind the tree, his two little beady eyes peeking around the trunk. "I was going to forgive you, you know," Aziraphale said, slowly spinning in circles as he looked for his friend. "But it's gone too far. I don't know if we can come back from this. But I want to try ..."

How was it that the angel could sense him? Crowley pondered until he realized. The angel could sense love, practically feel it in the air, and right now Crowley was so concerned for his friend he had to be practically emanating the stuff. Had Aziraphale been able to sense Crowley's love for him all along? Was it not actually a secret? That could only mean Aziraphale didn't reciprocate, since he hadn't ever brought it up.

Crowley dropped from the tree and slithered away, leaving his friend alone.

Aziraphale pocketed the note that had been left on the bench for him and walked home to Crowley's flat. Unlike the 5 human stages of grief, angels had 57 stages, and for the past six years, Aziraphale had been experiencing them all at once. He had spent too long wallowing in sadness, so he had taken a page out of Crowley's book and gotten angry. Anger hurt less than sadness did, but once his anger faded, the sadness just rushed back in.

Aziraphale sat down among Crowley's plants and cried until his eyes dried up and he noticed a few of the smaller plants trembling with fear. "Oh don't worry," Aziraphale comforted them. "I'm alright, and your papa is going to be just fine too. He's out there, and he'll come home to you someday. I know you all miss him dearly. I do too." Aziraphale curled up next to one of the big flower pots, his arm resting on the brim, and he fell asleep, too tired up from his emotional state to be above needing sleep.

Crowley, overwhelmed with shame, decided to visit Aziraphale's bookshop one last time, if only to peer through the window and see his friend before disappearing again. Aziraphale wasn't at his bookshop, but someone else was. The Archangel Gabriel stood on Azirphale's doorstep, angrily glaring at Crowley.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Crowley said with a hiss.

"I was checking up on Aziraphale, who isn't here by the way, and then you arrived so I figured I'd give you a good old talking-to."

"Okay, dad," Crowley said, rolling his eyes.

"Listen here, you fiend. You have ruined a perfectly good angel, and I will not tolerate it anymore. Stay away from Aziraphale. Don't you dare come running back into his life."

"You're right," the demon said dejectedly. "I did ruin it. I ruined everything ..."

"Did you even hear me?" Gabriel asked. "Are you listening? Pay attention. I am ordering you to stay away—"

"You don't get to tell me what to do," Crowley said. "I get to make that decision. Now fuck off!"