Falling Heavenward: A Good Omens Crowley/Aziraphale Fanfic

By your side

A longer chapter than usual--the flashback seemed too short to stand alone, so we are back to London halfway through.

Egypt, 1548 BC

Crawly had never actually feared to approach the angel, not even in Eden. Now, looking at shoulders that should be rounded held hard and rigid, he stared at his back, and felt something like fear for the first time. He knew that Principalities were technically soldiers. It no longer felt amusing when looking at Aziraphale.

Aziraphale sensed he was there without the approach. "I heard you'd taken my advice and gone to the Yellow River." His voice was expressionless. No turning, no glad "Hello, Crawly," no burst of sunshine. He stood staring at the sun shimmering on the water.

"I heard you stayed near the Nile." He licked suddenly dry lips, wishing he had the courage to take the last few steps, wrap his arms around Aziraphale's waist from behind, and just hold him. If only his last attempt at offering physical comfort hadn't gone so wrong. "So I came back."

"Gabriel and Mashit didn't need me. A lot of burning and pillaging and enslaving of innocent cities to do on the journey. Not really my thing."

"No. They might have noticed the lack of flaming sword."

"Right." He had never felt coldness from Aziraphale before. Coldness and anger. As the Flood waters had risen, Aziraphale had wept, and put the people to sleep to drown peacefully, then gone far away without telling Crawly where he was going. But now, there was sheer freezing anger at the Heavens. Crawly knew the signs. The angel was Questioning, and on the verge of Falling.

Fuck Gabriel and Mashit and Uriel and the whole damn lot of them for leaving Aziraphale here in the aftermath of their bloody carnival without help or comfort. As if he didn't matter.

"I thought I should pop back to the garden and check how my plants were doing, anyway."

"Much better without you."

Crawly wasn't sure if he should thank Aziraphale for checking on his garden, or be offended. He chose the latter, glad at a somewhat normal bit of cattiness from the angel. "That was harsh."

"Harsh?" Aziraphale's shoulders were shaking, and for a moment Crawly thought he was weeping. "No. Locusts are harsh. Boils are harsh. Killing children..."

"Is something my side would do. Only your side does too. At least we don't pretend to do it for righteousness."

"The Pharaoh was told to let the slaves go."

"Only those particular slaves. Anyway, it wasn't the decision of the ordinary parents, was it? And you said something about Abraham's lot enslaving people too. Hagar, she was one of their Egyptian slaves, wasn't she? Humans are always doing these things to each other. They don't need us to make it worse." Curse both Hell and Heaven, what was he doing? Aziraphale didn't need theological arguments right now. He needed comfort.

Crawly stepped forward at last, hardly daring to come close, settling for standing shoulder to shoulder without touching. Crawly wanted desperately to say: You're Falling, but it's all right, I'll catch you. We'll be together, love. Don't be scared. Instead he said, "Dagon was your friend up Above, yeah? They're not so bad, as infernal superiors go. They leave me alone to do pretty much my own thing, as long as I send Down paperwork. I can put in a word."

The words hung there, for the first time, an acknowledgement of the possibility of being on the same side.

Aziraphale turned at last, and Crawly expected to see white hot rage and rebellion. He was taken aback by a soft, sad smile, swimming tears. "Sometimes, for a demon, you are very kind."