Snakes and Crepes (Ineffable Husbands)

Peppermint Tea

I have no clue what to do. I don't want to fight. All I wished for was peace and an eternity with Aziraphale, but I can't ever seem to get what I want. I didn't want to fall from heaven, but I ended up sauntering vaguely downwards to hell.

I hate hell. I almost hate it as much as heaven, and I despise heaven with all their pompous pricks who have sticks so far up their behinds that they can't even talk to other angles in a reasonable manner because they are so focused on who's the best.  It's all a popularity game with the angels. Who's the holiest? Who prays the most? Who would god love the most? Most of them haven't even spoken to God, and they act like they know exactly was she wants. I spoke to her. It feels like it must have been lifetimes ago.

It feels like the last time she should have spoken to me would be before I fell. That would make the most sense because why would she speak to the fallen? That's not true. She spoke to me in 1941.

I had spoken to her plenty of times before the fall, and we had seemed to get along just fine. Even after the fall, she didn't seem to have any sort of disliking to me. To be frank, she seemed rather indifferent about the whole thing, and it had really angered me. Falling felt like dying ten different times with each death more gruesome than the last, stubbing your pinky toe so hard that the nail cracks, cutting off three toes and eight fingers, being rejected for 6,000 years and drowning all while falling further than any human could imagine. Oh- I was also on fire the whole time.

In summary, the experience was not something enjoyed, and it pissed me off when she shrugs off suffering as if it is nothing. Then again, I'm not sure how god could suffer. I assume that it must be nice to absolutely control everything, but I could see how it might get lonely or boring.

Then again, if god could control everything why would she allow angels to fall or temptations to arise. I think things spiraled out of control for her. Sure, everything may have started with her complete control, but overtime she lost control.

She gave gifts of free thought and comprehension to us disguised as a temptation. Us who fell took it, and she cannot control us. Then again, Aziraphale is not controlled, and he is an angel. So, did she even gift us anything or did we have it all along?

"Crowley, dear," Aziraphale said, trying to get my attention. "Would you like some hot tea?"

"Y-yeah yeah sure, Angel," I said before pacing around my apartment once last time to make sure nothing was there.

Aziraphale snapped, causing a cup of lukewarm peppermint tea to appear on my table on-top of my coaster. "Crowley come sit down," he said, worry washing over his face. "I would sense something if it were here. I promise," he cooed to me, but I shook my head no.

"I-I'm just going to walk around the apartment one more time," I said, annoyed by my stutter that seemed to always become more prominent at the worst of times. I wasn't weak or scared. I wasn't scared.

I never should have let myself fall. I should have been a rule follower. If I'd only done what they wanted, I could have avoided all of this. Maybe Aziraphale and I could have met in heaven instead of in the garden.

Come to think of it, I might of met him before the fall. I might have caught a glance at him, but everything was so blurry and repressed that I couldn't remember. I didn't want to remember.

If I had stayed in heaven, Aziraphale and I could freely love each other. The judgement would be gone. No sides would be picked. No war would be avoided. If heaven took over while I was up there, it would mean an eternity with Aziraphale. That was real heaven. True heaven, in my eyes, is a place of love and acceptance where you can live out all of your fantasies with who ever you care about deeply.

In reality, heaven is far from that, but if I was god, things would be different. Well, at least I'd try to make them different.

I walked by all my plants making sure nothing was hidden between, behind or under a single one of them.

The fallen fought for change, but hell is no different from heaven. It's just a different aesthetic and a lack of cleaning staff.

I let out a sigh before walking into my office, checking every hidden compartment. I gazed around my office, haunted by the memories resting here. This is where I killed Ligur. I'd never really killed a demon before—or an angel either.

As stupid as it seems, I cared about Ligur. There was some good in him deep down.

Okay— it was deep, deep, deep down, but it was still there. I know it was.

I killed him. I'm a murder. I killed Hastur's best friend. I deserved to vanish in that bath of holy water. I put on the tough demeanor, but what for? At what point will I break?

I'd been avoiding this room or at least the memories of this room, but in this moment I couldn't escape their presence.

Once I knew nothing was in there besides painful memories and some loose paperclips, I went to my bedroom. I searched everywhere from under my pillow to my underwear drawer.

I eventually made my way back to Aziraphale, and I sat beside him on the couch. I stared at my coffee table, having no words for my emotions.

"Oh Crowley—"

"No, Angel, don't 'oh Crowley' me," I huffed as I scooted to my side of the couch. "I was being responsible for once. Okay? Nkg...I— I'm not scared so don't even act like I am," I lied. "I just want to make sure you're safe."

"Okay dear," he said, obviously not in the mood to fight with me. He opened his arms for me, and I slowly scooted into his warm hold.

"Promise not to leave?" I asked as I leaned my head on Aziraphale.

"I promise."