The Incarnate (A Good Omens CrowleyxReader)

~Chapter 11~

"You could have just asked her!" Aziraphale appears slightly upset that Crowley had to hypnotize the woman into answering our questions.

"Oh, right, yeah. Excuse me, ma'am, we're just two supernatural entities looking for the notorious son of Satan, wonder if you might help us with our inquiries?" Aziraphale says nothing and looks down. Crowley directs his attention towards the woman.

"What is your name?"

"Mary Loquacious."

"Did you happen to be a satanic nun in this building eleven years ago?"

"I was." Satanic nuns... Huh. It makes sense, though. Who else would switch around some babies to trigger Armageddon?

"Do you have any birth records from that time?"

"We were quite good at keeping records. Many long records."

"Can we see them?"

"No." Crowley shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

"Why not?"

"They were burned down when the convent caught fire eleven years ago." Crowley looks annoyed and looks towards you.

"Well, this is a dead-end. Come on, let's go. No use sticking around here. We need to think of another plan." He turns again and walks away. Aziraphale moves up to Mary.

"When you wake up, you will have had a lovely dream about what you like most." He smiles, snaps his fingers, and walks on after Crowley. You follow him close behind. You turn back and glance at Mary.

She's dazed and looking at the floor, but you can see a contented smile on her face. You wonder vaguely what she ended up dreaming about.

There was an uncomfortable silence in the Bentley as Crowley drove Aziraphale to his bookshop. The plan failed. What else are you going to do? What else can you do?

At the bookshop, Aziraphale gets out and you take his place in the front seat. As you drive home, you work up the courage to ask Crowley something that's been bothering you for a while now, ever since Aziraphale told you he was an angel. Sure, it wasn't so long ago, but still.

"Hey, Crowley? Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot." Your mind flickers back to the guns, but you focus your mind to the present.

"Why me?"

"What do you mean?"

"I'm just a normal human. I'm not special. I'm just... Y/N. A book nerd with no family or friends. Why did Aziraphale choose to talk to me all that time ago? He usually has a few people in his shop, not just me. What drew him to me? And why did you agree to let me stay with you? I'm not even sure you liked me for a while. Why do you care about me and my safety out of all people? The world's ending soon, and I'm probably just in the way."

Crowley is silent for a moment.

"I've known Aziraphale for six thousand years. I know him pretty well." You say nothing. "He's the type to look into people's souls just to see who he was around and what kind of danger he might be in. It never really served him well. He got himself into plenty of messes by relying on that ability too much and thinking he was a step ahead of the enemy-- I've had to save his life countless times. But that bad luck was before you."

"He peered into my soul?"

"He did. And what he saw, how he explained it, was an intense love."

"For who?"

"For the world around you. You have a faith in the world, a faith in humanity, a faith that everyone can be contented and at peace and harmony. You care so much about everything. You've already proved that. You got shot with a paintball gun because you care about what we had to say."

"You said the world was ending. I think anyone who knew that would gladly get hit with a paintball to stop it."

"But you believed us."

"That's called being naive."

"No, you managed to sense that we are who we said we are. An angel and a demon. We didn't have to prove it to you. You could sense that in us before we told you."

"But I'm sure many people care about the world as much as I do." He turns to you and you can see just a hint of a smile.

"Well, you're the one who showed up in Aziraphale's bookshop that day. And besides," he turns his head back to the road, "he also sensed another strong emotion in you. Loyalty. We know we can trust you because you have an intense loyalty that's so much stronger than so many others. So he decided to talk to you. I trusted his intuition and let you into my house. Let's just say that I wasn't disappointed."

"What do you mean?" You hadn't done anything particularly out of the ordinary.

"You made me food and made sure I ate. You also said that you were going to make me sleep. And when I asked why, you just said that you cared about me."

"So? I'm sure many people would do the same thing."

"You did it because you were honestly worried about me. Other people would have done it because they wanted something in return."

"How do you know I didn't want something?"

"I'm a demon. I'm the one who makes people act nice for not-so-nice reasons." You're silent. You don't know what to say. You are, in fact, quite ordinary.

"I...  must have just been in the right place at the right time."

"Of course you were. You were also the right person." You realize something.

"Wait, why don't you eat?"

"I'm a demon. I don't need to eat to stay alive. Aziraphale, on the other hand, enjoys food-- particularly this thing made out of raw fish called 'sushi'-- but I don't find the need. Too busy to eat." The next part is barely a mumble, but you still hear it all the same. "Although, I do like alcohol."

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Okay, well, is it the same with sleep?"

"Yeah. I just don't sleep because I have better things to do, although it is interesting. Once I took a century-long nap and I only got up twice to use the bathroom."

"That's... really weird."

"I'm six thousand years old. What do you expect?" He pulls up to his flat. "Get out, and get something to eat. It's about time for you to have lunch." You glance at him. "No, I don't want anything. I just need to park and I'll be right in."

You walk into the flat and start preparing lunch for yourself. You think you'll spend the next hour sitting in your room writing a letter to the college you were going to explaining that you're dropping out.

With all of this Armaggedon business, you don't think you'll have time for studying literature.