Falling Heavenward: A Good Omens Crowley/Aziraphale Fanfic

Cross-referencing

"It's my writing, yes. But I don't recall it." Aziraphale stared at the scrap of paper. "Hearts? That doesn't seem very like me." He pushed his reading glasses up his nose. "Crowley."

Crowley laughed giddily. "Not the wise, worldly image you like to think you project. But I know you. There's an inner blushing princess that emerges at every opportunity."

"That's quite insulting," Aziraphale said absently. He didn't seem inclined to return the bookmark. His well cared for fingers were stroking it, his brow creased.

"It's a compliment. Don't be sensitive about it. Of all beings, we don't have to insist on our masculinity."

"Well, no," Aziraphale conceded, tracing the snake bewilderedly. "But I am a soldier."

"Only technically. You have no taste for violence. I'm willing to bet you skived off actual action at least as much as I did."

"That's a very odd thing for a seraph to admit to having done," said Aziraphale, neatly dodging the implication.

"Well. About that." Crowley took off his own glasses, and peered at Aziraphale with still unfamiliar feeling eyes. "Look, doesn't this note convey anything to you at all? Prod any memories?"

"It's a reference to the Serpent in the Garden. Asmodeus," Aziraphale said, at the exact same time that Crowley said, "Crawly." And then added, "Or Anthony J. Crowley. Me."

Aziraphale looked blankly at him, as if at a loss for coherent thought. "What does the J stand for?"

"Is that really all you have to say?"

"I don't know what you expect me to say. I think Asmodeus is right and you're possibly insane. Certainly overwrought."

"Overwrought and highly strung, that's me," Crowley said a bit manically. "Goes with being a serpent. Snakes are notorious for being a bit temperamental, at least when we're not asleep. Why are we still sober? I feel like we shouldn't be sober for this conversation." He headed for Aziraphale's liquor cabinet and pulled out a bottle.

"Oh, that's a really nice gin. Got dead ants bottled in it, which is a bit cruel, but your selfless love for all creatures great and small fades a bit when it comes to your earthly pleasures, doesn't it?" He splashed generous triple measures into a glass. "Better than the rotgut we used to drink back in the day, anyway. Do you remember that? You thought going to the States was a terrible mistake, your tender morals wouldn't let you go to speakeasies, and you had to sip dry toddies and pretend you liked them. Good thing you had me handy so you could drop in and let yourself be tempted. Practically wept with relief on my shoulder at the prospect of getting plastered. If I'd had any sense I would have confessed my love then and there, while you were all sentimental at the prospect of booze, but it's not easy when you're a demon. There are rules."

"I did like dry toddies, but they would have been better with brandy, true. And you're babbling." Aziraphale frowned. "That was Asmodeus. You're not a demon, Anthony."

"Crowley. It was me. I was a demon until two days ago. And he was your supervisor, the Archangel Gabriel. Drink up your gin. And think, Aziraphale. Think hard. I was so drunk in Chicago I turned into a snake and fell asleep curled up on your lap, and you stroked me when you thought I was too out of it to notice. Is that really something you can imagine Asmodeus doing, making himself that vulnerable in your presence? Aziraphale, he despises you."

Hurt flashed into Aziraphale's eyes. Crowley felt a flash of remorse, but pushed on. "It only hurts because your memories are all mixed up," he said, very gently. "Because you are hurt at the thought of me despising you." He wanted to reach out a hand and didn't dare. "Aziraphale, angel, you must be scared and in pain. I'm going to make those bastards pay for doing this to you. I don't know how many of your memories are left, and I can't imagine how it feels trying to superimpose a slimy bastard like Asmodeus onto them. I mean, I'm a nightmare, but at least I'm a different kind of nightmare." He gulped down his gin and tried to smile. "A clingy, snappy, needy nightmare you can't get rid of. But you know, no matter how many times you denied me, I knew you really didn't want to get rid of me at all, you just thought you should. That's what made everything bearable. I—oh, Heaven."