Chapter Text
Home Street. Edinburgh. 2019
A man entered the church shortly after the sermon finished. He felt strange walking through the corridor. He was an Anglican, not a Catholic. However, everything looked so similar to his church.
The altar was empty, as the priest was already in his office, finishing everything and preparing himself for going home. The man didn’t want to interrupt whatever he was doing, so he waited sitting on one of the benches. He heard a door opening and a light going off; then he saw a man with crimson hair and sunglasses on, wearing a bag on his shoulder. The priest stopped walking once he saw him.
“Oh! Aziraphale!” he said, now smiling “Hi!”
“Good afternoon, Father Crowley” Aziraphale smirked back.
Crowley wrinkled his nose.
“You don’t have to call me ‘father’, you know it, right?”
“We are in a church. Your church, indeed”
“Yeah, but it feels strange. You as a priest calling me ‘father’” Crowley shrugged while getting his glasses off.
Crowley’s yellow eyes met Aziraphale’s. The blond man felt a sudden relief in his chest.
“Anyway, what brings my dear Anglican friend here?”
Crowley sat on one of the stairs in front of the bench where Aziraphale was, leaving his bag next to his right foot.
A few seconds passed before Aziraphale could speak, trying to find the words of what he was about to say out loud.
“Could you confess me?”
One of Crowley’s eyebrows raised.
“You know I can’t” he answered, in a soft voice “A Catholic confessing an Anglican. Probably they would kick me out of here”
“I know… It-It was a stupid question, I don’t even know why—“he interrupted himself “I didn’t know whom I should tell this”
“Do you need any forgiveness?” Crowley laced his fingers together.
“I don’t know…”
Crowley studied Aziraphale’s worried face for a few more seconds, in silence.
“Well, I am not allowed to forgive you in the name of God, but I can listen to you and forgive you as a friend if you need it.”
“Oh, really?” Aziraphale smiled, feeling the tension fading away.
“But if I wanted to, I could go to the police”
“Oh…” he did a small pause “It’s okay, I trust you”
Crowley nodded. Aziraphale looked around
“Do you prefer…” started the redhead man “…a more private place?”
“Yes” Aziraphale sighed “I would feel less…” he gave another look to the place “…judged”
“There is no place for judgment in my church” Crowley stood up, put his sunglasses on and grabbed his bag again “Alright, let’s go to my place”
“Y-your place?”
“Yeah, it’s been a long day I just wanna get home”
Aziraphale nodded and followed Crowley outside the church. The priest’s house was just a few meters from the building they just left. Aziraphale walked a few steps behind Crowley, who turned to check if he was still there when he arrived at the red door.
“After you” he said, holding the entry for him.
Aziraphale entered the building and climbed the stairs towards another door, this time brown. He leaned his back against the wall to make enough space for Crowley to get the keys and open his home. Now this time he entered first.
When Crowley shut the door once both were in, he sighed loudly, taking the sunglasses off.
“Finally…” he said in a whisper for himself. Then he looked at Aziraphale “You can leave your coat over there” he pointed to a coat rack “and the sofa is after that door. Make yourself comfortable, I’ll get a coffee and be right back”
“A coffee? This late? It will keep you up all night!”
Crowley raised one of his eyebrows again. Aziraphale felt guilty right after finishing the sentence. He was not a child, he had free will to do whatever he wanted to. His face didn’t look like it was the first time he was having a late cup of coffee.
“I’ll shut up, sorry…” Aziraphale headed down and left his coat on the rack.
“Do you want a cup of tea? I’ve got rooibos” he did a small pause “It’s the one that doesn’t have theine, right?”
“Yes…”Aziraphale smiled “Thanks, Crowley. That’s very kind”
Crowley didn’t say anything else and went to the kitchen. Meanwhile, Aziraphale sat on the sofa, holding his hands and observing every detail in Crowley’s living room. It looked a bit smaller than his, but it still felt cozy. There was an armchair next to the window with a blanket and a book in it. He wanted to see the title, but from his position, he wasn’t able to. And if he stood up and looked Crowley could notice it and think bad of him for being such a gossip.
And speaking about the Catholic Priest, he entered the room again holding two black mugs. He handed the one with the blue inside to Aziraphale and kept the one with the red inside for himself.
Instead of taking a seat on the armchair in front of Aziraphale, Crowley sat next to him, on the sofa. They could kick their feet if they wanted to.
“So, tell me” Crowley crossed his legs “Why do you need me to forgive you?”
Aziraphale suddenly remembered why he was there.
“Oh, yeah, right!” he copied Crowley’s position “Er-” he looked away, feeling observed “Something bad happened. Something really bad”
Crowley nodded, interested in what the Anglican was going to tell him.
“Do you know Muriel? She works in one of the restaurants near your church”
“Oh, my God! What happened to Muriel!!!???” Crowley raised his voice, worried.
“Nothing!” Aziraphale also exclaimed. Then he lowered a bit “Nothing” he gulped “She came to me after the sermon. With one of her friends. Because they needed to report something”
Aziraphale’s slowness in getting to the point was making Crowley a bit nervous.
“One of the priests of the Anglican Church of Edinburgh has…” he cleared his throat“...touched inappropriately Muriel’s friend”
Crowley felt a sudden pinch in his chest.
“Who?” he asked, without moving any muscle of his face.
“She’s 16”
“Who?”
“And her brother is 11”
“Aziraphale, who did it?”
“And he touched him too”
“Aziraphale!”
Crowley didn’t yell, but he grabbed Aziraphale’s arm tightly. When he noticed he took it away. Aziraphale took a deep breath before answering:
“Father Matthew”
Crowley tightened his jaw.
“And I don’t know what to do…” Aziraphale sighed “If I don’t say anything he can still abuse people. Maybe Muriel’s friend was the first one who was brave enough to talk. But he is a priest in the Anglican Church… He has a family. And it’s a respectable member. This could cause so much trouble”
Aziraphale let himself flop on the sofa, after leaving the mug on the coffee table.
“Whatever I do I feel I’m doing the wrong thing” his voice cracked.
“Oh, you are an angel, I don’t think you can do something wrong…”Crowley put a hand on Aziraphale’s knee.
The blond man flushed.
“Oh, thank you, really…” Aziraphale covered his face with both hands “I just needed to tell somebody, you know? It’s not like you could solve it with a miracle or something like that”
Both chuckled.
“I really appreciate you telling me this”
Aziraphale uncovered his face, finding Crowley smiling at him. He smiled back.
“Promise me you won’t tell anything”
“I am a tomb”
Aziraphale got up from the sofa
“What I need to do is to have some sleep. Things will get clearer after resting”
Aziraphale grabbed his coat. Crowley did the same.
“Let me walk you home” said the redhead grabbing his keys and glasses.
“Oh, it’s not necessary. Our churches are not more than 5 minutes away. I’ll be fine”
“I insist. I want to make sure you arrive safely”
“But then you have to walk alone back here”
“Nothing will happen to me. Let’s go”
Both priests walked through Home Street and then turned left in Gilmore Place. It was a chilly night. Their breaths were manifested in the air with a white little cloud.
“Let’s have breakfast tomorrow” said Crowley once they got to Aziraphale’s house next to his church “I know a new coffee shop that you might like. And you could tell me your thoughts about what we talked”
“Sure! At 8?”
“Perfect. I’ll text you the directions”
“Sure! See you then!”
“Good night, Aziraphale”
“Good night, Crowley”
Crowley once alone, took his time for walking back to Home Street. He silently opened his church and approached the altar, hands with his fingers laced.
He knelt in front of Holy Mary’s figure. A custom ceramic statue he commissioned for the church when he started as a priest there.
“Hail Mary, full of Grace, the Lord is with thee. Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now, and at the hour of death. Amen” he paused before continuing “Forgive me, Mother, for what I am about to do. Forgive me, Mother, because I am about to sin. But, as you’ve always known, this is not for my benefit but the world’s. Protect me in this mission. Amen”
The next morning, Aizraphale was dressing up when he received a message from Crowley:
Home Street, 23. Already there
Aziraphale: Coming!
As usual in Edinburgh, Aziraphale found a grey sky welcoming the new day. Maybe a storm would start at any minute. Maybe not. Who knows?
He put his hands into his pockets, trying to not get them too cold. Some people waved at him, as they knew him from the church. He answered with a smile and a nod.
He didn’t have time to stop and chat with anybody. Crowley was already at the café and didn’t want to make him wait. And he had something so important to tell him.
“Good morning!” a young woman greeted him when he entered the café “What can I get for you?”
“Good morning!” he nodded for the tenth time that morning.
Aziraphale looked at the blackboards behind the waitress for a moment, analyzing what he was going to order.
“They say the hot chocolate here is so good. I’ve ordered one” said a voice on his right.
Aziraphale didn’t get scared after Crowley’s sudden appearance. He hadn’t taken his sunglasses off.
“And the cinnamon buns look very nice”he replied to his friend’s sentence. Then he frowned his lips and raised his eyebrows, thoughtful “Yeah, I think I’ll get that” Aziraphale looked to the young girl “A hot chocolate and a cinnamon bun, please”
“Perfect, sir”
“Alright, come” Crowley grabbed Aziraphale’s sleeve and brought him to the inside of the café.
“I thought you would get a coffee” said Aziraphale.
“Already had two at home”
A paradise of books decorated the walls of the place, filled with cute wooden tables. Next to the window at the end of the place, two armchairs and a table smaller than the other ones were waiting for them. The rest of the place was still empty.
“I guess you didn’t hear the news yet” Aziraphale started talking while sitting.
“About what?” Crowley crossed his legs and rested his hands on his knee.
“About…” Aziraphale looked for a second to the waitress, who was preparing their orders. He lowered his voice and leaned over so Crowley was the only one to hear him “About what we talked about yesterday”
“Father Matthew” Crowley also whispered, imitating Aziraphale’s posture.
They went back to their initial positions.
“Gabriel called me this morning. He woke me up, which wasn’t the best way to end my dreams. I was having a very interesting conversation with Oscar Wilde…”
“Aziraphale…” interrupted Crowley “What did Gabriel say?”
“Right” the Anglican shook his head “They found Father Matthew’s body this morning. In his church. He is dead”
Crowley opened his eyes and raised his eyebrows.
“Really?”
Aziraphale nodded. Crowley crossed his arms.
“How did it happen?”
Aziraphale shrugged and shook his head.
“They will celebrate the funeral at noon. The family said they wanted to put his business together as quickly as they could. Gabriel is going to officiate it in his church”
“The dead’s church?”
“Yeah. The same place where he…” Aziraphale didn’t want to say it out loud “Well, you know”.
“Are you gonna go?”
The waitress approached them with their breakfast.
“Thank you, dear” Aziraphale smirked.
“Thanks” Crowley inclined his head.
“Enjoy, gentlemen” the girl smiled and went back to the counter.
Aziraphale kept looking at her for a second.
“She seems a good person. I like her vibe” his voice softened.
“Aziraphale” Crowley called his attention once more “The funeral”.
“Well, I should go. But I don’t want to. I would prefer to stay at home reading, honestly. Just thinking about stepping on that place is making me feel dizzy. But if I stay home, Gabriel or Michael are going to come over and dramatically knock on the door ‘Aziraphale! Why aren’t you coming to one of your Brother’s funeral?’” he mocked Gabriel’s voice.
“You can stay at my place, if you like”
“What?”
“You can tell them a quick excuse and stay in my apartment. They will never search for you there ”
“Are you trying to tempt me to lie?”
“I am suggesting to you how to not go to a place you will be uncomfortable”
“But lying is a sin”
Crowley leaned again and whispered:
“And so it is touching minors inappropriately and Father Matthew enjoyed that sin too much”
“Don’t compare me to him”
“Sorry”
Both looked away, avoiding each other’s eyes for a moment.
“But what am I supposed to tell them?”
“I don’t know. The first thing that comes to your mind”
Aziraphale grabbed his phone and looked at Gabriel’s chat for a while. Then he wrote and sent the text quickly.
“I have to visit a friend in Glasgow today, catching the train in a few minutes. I’ll be back at night. Can’t go to the funeral” he read out loud.
“See?”
Aziraphale put his phone away.
“I feel damned”
“It’s not that bad when you get used to it”
Chapter 2: CHAPTER 2
Chapter Text
Before they tasted their hot chocolates, Crowley took a picture from his phone. Aziraphale posed smiling and with his hands resting on his knees.
“You don’t appear in the picture, it’s just the food” chuckled Crowley.
“Oh” the priest relaxed his posture.
“I have a Facebook group chat with some people from the Church. I like to recommend some small businesses”
“That’s very kind of you”
Crowley shrugged, focused on the phone. Aziraphale took a sip of his chocolate.
“Uhm!” he opened his eyes when the cocoa touched his tongue and raised his eyebrows “It’s so good!”
It wasn’t strong like pure chocolate, but it wasn’t a sugar bomb. It was a nice taste. It gave the priest comfort. New comfort food unlocked.
“Alright, smile” Crowley ignored what Aziraphale said and raised his phone towards his friend.
Aziraphale left the cup on the table and posed again, one hand on top of the other.
“There we go” Crowley took the picture.
“Alright, my turn”
“What?”
“Smile!”
Crowley obeyed and just let himself smirk while looking at the camera. Aziraphale grinned.
Art by the amazing and lovely @loveisalie-lie.bsky.social
“Perfect. Now try the chocolate”
Crowley chuckled and took a sip of his chocolate
“Oh, you’re right! It’s so good! Maybe if it was a bit thicker…”
“I like it better this way, it’s more suave in the throat…”
Crowley shrugged.
“If you don’t want it, you can give it to me…”
“No, no!” Crowley grabbed his mug “I didn’t say that”
Aziraphale chuckled. Then he looked at the picture he had just taken.
“You know, if you took your glasses off…”
“Never” the Catholic kept drinking.
Later, walking up Home Street, Aziraphale felt a pinch in his stomach when he walked past Gilmore Place. He avoided looking at it, just in case he saw any of the Anglican Priest’s cars.
“Nobody is looking for you” said Crowley.
Aziraphale raises his head to look to the ginger, who was checking Gilmore Place with a quick glance.
“Just relax” Crowley patted Aziraphale’s back “You are in Glasgow , remember?”
“I guess…”
Crowley continued walking. Aziraphale followed him a couple of steps behind.
Once in the apartment, Crowley ran upstairs with his jacket and glasses still on. He got down less than a minute later. Aziraphale left his coat on the rack.
“I need to go to the pharmacy to get my medicines. I’m almost out of them”
Aziraphale nodded.
“You can stay here if you want to”
“I won’t say no to that” Aziraphale sat on the sofa.
Crowley chuckled.
“You can watch the TV, get some tea, grab a book… My house is your house”
Aziraphale nodded again.
“Alright, see you in a while”
“See you”
Aziraphale waved at Crowley as he left the house.
He checked the Catholic’s kitchen to make some tea, finding some in a little can next to the microwave. He turned on the kettle. While the water was heating, he walked again to the living room. At the dining table, he found some papers. He didn’t want to look at it, but he recognized the hospital logo on one of them.
For a moment he felt his breath cutting. Crowley had heart issues since he was a child, and he had frequent revisions and medical visits.
In the paper, Aziraphale found the results from an analysis made a week ago. Everything was normal. He felt he could breathe again.
When he met Crowley, he was at the hospital because of his heart issues.
That was 17 years ago.
2002
Crowley was alone. Rose, his mother, had died a year before. He was lucky enough to make it to the hospital when he noticed the symptoms of a new episode. Doctors said that a few more minutes and he wouldn’t have survived.
It was just a matter of time before that would happen. Crowley’s behavior had been based on little self-destructive acts for the past two months.
His mother’s death anniversary was near. And she missed her so much. Before the paramedics intervened, he felt closer to her for a moment.
He got a room at the hospital for only himself. Nobody else had to stand his breakdowns at night. He wouldn’t mind if his heart decided to stop. Without his mother, nothing made sense. He had nobody to take care of him. And he had nobody to take care of.
But she always told him that his mission was to bring joy to people’s lives. She would be so disappointed if he didn’t fulfill his mission. She never told him that. He just knew it.
His mother always told him that he was one of Holy Mary’s favorites.
During her funeral was the last time Crowley felt protected. A figure of Holy Mary was next to him during the service. She reminded him of her mom. The same warm feeling encroached on his chest when he looked at her. The heavenly mother herself was embracing him as he was saying goodbye to his earthly mother.
That’s why he decided to become a catholic priest. Trying to have that feeling again. To serve Holy Mary on earth. To bring light and hope to people’s lives, just as she did when he needed it the most. Just like Rose.
But life was getting too hard. Everything was dark around him. He could only feel pain and desperation. His chest was empty.
The only thing he had left in his life was praying. He just prayed. To his heavenly mother.
“Holy Mary” he prayed, hands together and eyes closed, sitting on the armchair next to the window “Holy Mother”.
Crowley would give anything to see her one last time. Five more minutes. Just a hug. His mother was his Guardian Angel, but Mary called her back to her side, leaving him in solitude. He was a warrior with no armor. Nor purpose. No reason to keep going.
“I know you can’t only take care of me, that’s too much responsibility, and I am not worthy of that privilege. But please, Mother… Send me an angel. I’m fighting this battle unescorted. And I can’t do this alone… I need an angel to be my protector. Like you. Like Rose”
Crowley had to take a deep breath because tears didn’t let him speak anymore. He cleaned them up.
“Amen”
Crowley crossed himself and looked one last time at the night sky, full of stars. He hoped one of them had listened to his prayer.
One of the things that Crowley hated the most about being at the hospital was that he couldn’t wear his sunglasses. So, to prevent the nurses from seeing his eyes he spent the entire time pretending to be asleep or opening them a bit.
All the medical staff had been very kind to him, even when he was just with his eyes closed and in silence.
After a few days, he was able to walk slowly around the room. They told him he could walk through the corridors if he wanted to, but without his sunglasses, he wouldn’t dare to exit those four walls.
He did it just to not have pain in his legs because of spending too much time lying on the bed. When he stood he felt dizzy really quickly. Then he spent the rest of the time he wasn’t sleeping watching the TV. At night he sat next to the window and looked at the stars for hours.
He could shower himself, even if it took him 30 minutes, and had to be sat on a plastic chair. Then he got dressed in a white pyjama they gave him.
He didn’t hear the knocks on the door before going outside the bathroom. He gasped when he found a blonde man standing in the middle of his room. He even lost balance for a moment.
“Oh! I’m sorry!” the man approached him and held him by the shoulders, helping him to go back to bed “I knocked”
“It’s okay” Crowley breathed deeply once he was lying down again.
“I didn’t want to scare you”
“I’m fine, really. If I fainted I’m in the best place I could be, don’t you think?”
The blond chuckled nervously.
“I’m Father Aziraphale” he held out his hand “I volunteer here at the hospital”
“Nice to meet you” Crowley took it.
The handshake lasted a bit longer than it should have. Crowley noticed that it was because Aziraphale was looking directly at his eyes. Shit.
“I like your eyes”
“Wh-what?” he opened them more, surprised.
“I like yellow. It’s pretty”
It took a moment for Crowley to answer:
“Th-thanks!”
Now their hands separated.
“Which church?” asked Crowley.
“Anglican. In Gilmore Place”
“Catholic. Home Street”
“Oh, you are a priest too?”
Crowley nodded.
“And we are pretty near, indeed. Five minutes apart. How is it that I never saw you?”
“Well, I am not officially a priest yet. I will. In a few weeks. When I get out of here”
“Well, congratulations” Aziraphale smiled and put a hand over Crowley’s shoulder.
The silence made its presence in the room. Aziraphale didn’t know if asking him his name; that would be too many questions in a row and he might get pissed. He noticed that the man with crimson hair didn’t like to talk so much. Or maybe speaking was painful for him; he didn’t know why he was at the hospital.
Somebody knocked on the door, and Crowley quickly pretended to be asleep right after the nurse opened and entered the room. Aziraphale was quite surprised by that reaction.
“Father Aziraphale” whispered the woman “Could you come outside for a moment, please?”
“Sure” the priest nodded and walked outside with the nurse.
The woman closed the door carefully. Both walked a few meters away down the corridor.
“He is pretending to be asleep” said the nurse.
Aziraphale didn’t answer. He waited for her to keep talking.
“Mr.Crowley pretends to be asleep most of the time”
Oh, his name was Crowley.
“Sometimes he opens a bit his eyes, but just enough to us not to see the yellow” she did a pause “I’ve seen them. When he got here. Quite terrifying sight. It’s like looking at a demon”she shrugged “But he is nice. When he speaks”
“Why is he at the hospital?” the priest stopped walking and looked at Crowley’s door.
“Heart issues. He arrived almost dead a week ago. We are trying to find what caused it while he recovers”
“He is becoming a priest when he gets back home”
“Oh, did he tell you that?” the nurse raised her eyebrows, surprised.
Aziraphale nodded.
“Father, if you prefer to meet with another patient, I would understand. Somebody more interesting ”
“Oh, no” Aziraphale shook his head, confident “I think I’ll try to know him better. Maybe he just needs a bit of company”
The woman sighed.
“That’s up to you, Father”
Aziraphale smiled at the nurse and went back to Crowley’s room. Before entering, he knocked and this time, waited for the other’s voice to let you in.
The patient was sitting in an armchair next to the window, looking outside. The sun was already hiding between the clouds, welcoming the darkness of the winter afternoon.
“She looks so pretty” said the ginger.
He turned to look at Aziraphale for a moment, his yellow eyes meeting the blue ones. Then he pointed to the sky.
“Doesn’t she?”
The Anglican joined him, resting his arms on the top of the armchair, also admiring the beautiful purple above them.
“She does. She looks really pretty”
Back in 2019
Crowley waited patiently at the pharmacy. He forgot to call the pharmacist to get his medication prepared, so it was going to get a bit longer. The man offered a chair for sitting meanwhile, but he kindly refused. He was able to stand up for more than 10 minutes. He did it during sermons. He could wait.
“In case I faint this is the best place it could happen, don’t you think?” he joked.
The pharmacist didn’t laugh. Crowley thought about apologizing for a moment, but before he could speak, he was already inside the store, looking for his medicines. Too late.
He took his phone and saved the picture Aziraphale sent him. He had to admit it, he looked nice. That was an unusual impression he had about his own photos.
Should he change his profile picture to that one? Aziraphale suggested that maybe it would look better without the glasses. Did Aziraphale know he was the only person who had seen his eyes in a long time? Well, his eyes weren’t something he liked to talk about. Maybe he didn’t even mention it.
Crowley always forgot to mention a lot of things. He just assumed people knew it and turns out he never said a word about it.
Fuck it, he looked good in that picture, he was going to change his profile photo.
The priest entered the setting of his profile and did it kind of quickly. If he looked at it for too much time, he would change it again to the old one.
What if he asked Aziraphale if he liked it as a new profile picture? After all, he was the one who took it.
Wait a minute.
“You bastard…” he muttered to himself, chuckling.
Aziraphale also changed his profile picture to the one Crowley took of him.
He felt his heart melting a little bit. His friend really looked nice. Well, nice in general. He had already taken a few pictures of him while he didn’t notice and it always seemed like he was ready for a photoshoot. How did he do it? He didn’t know. Maybe because his friend was far too pure of heart, and the camera was capable of capturing it.
Crowley didn’t have that goodness inside of him. He knew it. Even if Aziraphale used the word ‘kind’ to refer to him. It was just because he was his friend. Once you get used to someone is difficult to see their defects. But there was so little kindness inside of him. Nor mercy. Nor forgiveness.
His phone vibrated.
Aziraphale: You changed the picture!
Crowley: You changed it too
Aziraphale: Do you like it?
Crowley: Maybe if you wore sunglasses…
Aziraphale: Shut up. You look cool in the picture by the way
Crowley: Thanks?
Aziraphale kept wandering around Crowley’s living room. In all these years he never visited his place. And yet the priest had welcomed him like an old friend. Well, he was an old friend, indeed.
They met at Princess Garden most of the time, sometimes outside their churches and they just walked through the streets and usually, they had lunch or breakfast together. Crowley also hadn’t visited Aziraphale’s home. Maybe because even though they were friends, they were still priests from different Churches.
An Anglican and a Catholic. Who would think they would get along so well? In fact, religion was never a topic in their conversations. Not because it was banned; it just didn’t pop.
Aziraphale paid attention to the shelves next to the TV. Most of the books he had were thrillers and some classic authors like Agatha Christie, Mary Shelley, Bram Stoker, and Edgar Allan Poe. He also had some DVD films. Also thrillers and mystery. Some animation too, for Aziraphale’s surprise. He didn’t know his friend liked ‘Shrek’.
On the top of it, Crowley had a picture with his mom, next to a Holy Mary’s figure. It surprised him that he wasn’t wearing sunglasses.
He looked so happy. He knew he loved her so much.
It mustn't have been easy for Crowley to get through the grief. He remembered how sad he was during the first times he visited him at the hospital.
Art by the lovely and amazing @loveisalie-lie.bsky.social
2002 again.
At least, when Aziraphale was around, he didn’t pretend to be asleep. He even exited from bed and sat in the armchair beside the window. Crowley sometimes smiled, but it was a sad smirk. The first time he heard him chuckle and show his teeth Aziraphale felt his heart warming up.
He was used to spend time with people at hospitals.
Back in Glasgow he also volunteered entertaining old people and children. He did magic shows. And they seemed to enjoy them! But he never visited somebody around his age.
He became a priest 7 years before, in 1995. He had been living in Edinburgh for two months when he met Crowley for the first time.
Aziraphale used a mix of strategies he learned with the other patients to make Crowley happy.
He refused to take walks around the corridor without his sunglasses, and it was hard to have a conversation with him, but he agreed to eat something between lunch and dinner, so he could take his afternoon medicine.
At first, he brought him sweet treats from the vending machine. But then Aziraphale discovered a bakery near the hospital with lots of varieties of croissants.
“I’ve got a game for you”
“Huh?”
Crowley was watching TV the moment Aziraphale entered the room. The priest pointed to the armchair and the patient obeyed and sat there.
Aziraphale took a chair in front of Crowley, holding the bag with the croissant.
“Alright, do you prefer Kinder or Oreo?”
“What?”
Aziraphale got the croissants out of the bag. Crowley’s yellow pearls shone.
“The game consists of you talking about whatever you want for a while. And I give you the croissant you prefer”
“And what if I don’t want to talk about anything?”
“Then I’ll have both croissants alone at home and you’ll only eat the hospital food”
“Ngk” Crowley crossed his arms, both eyebrows raised.
“Look, I’m just trying to give you something that makes you happy”
Crowley flushed. And there it was, the first smile. And Aziraphale was lucky enough to witness it.
“Do we have a deal?”
“I guess?”
Aziraphale set different timers every day. Depending on Crowley’s mood, he asked him to talk for about 5, 10, or 15 minutes.
He wasn’t used to making friends, but he found it appropriate to give Crowley his number. Just in case he wanted to talk.
Crowley phoned him at 6 a.m. three days later. Aziraphale was already awake, so the call didn’t disturb him at all.
“Crowley! Good morning!”
His friend was crying on the other side of the line.
“Crowley? Are you alright?”
“No…” Crowley’s voice was hardly audible.
“What’s wrong?”
Crowley kept sobbing. Aziraphale remained silent.
“I want to go home” his voice completely broken “I just want to go home. I don’t want to be here anymore”
That was a completely new thing for the priest. How the hell was he supposed to react? Should he try to say something that comforted him? Or maybe he just needed to be listened to.
“I miss my mom” Crowley continued “I miss her every single day. I miss her so much. I want her to come back”
His mom? He had never mentioned his mom.
Aziraphale had noticed nobody else apart from him visited Crowley at the hospital. But he didn’t want to ask too many personal things.
“I want to be with her” Crowley paused and took deep breaths.
“Where is she?”
“She-” Crowley’s chest hurt when he tried to speak “She-” he didn’t know if he could say it out loud “She is-” breathing was painful “She is g-g-... She is gone”
“Gone where?”
“Heaven” Crowley’s voice faded.
Now Aziraphale only heard him sobbing. He just waited.
“Do you want me to come over?” he asked.
“Will you bring me a croissant?” Crowley’s voice softened a bit.
“Yes?”
“Thanks” Crowley whispered.
“Oh, there is no need to thank me, that’s what… friends are for”
“I like you being my friend . It makes me happy”
Aziraphale entered Crowley’s room softly, hoping he had fallen asleep again. He pictured in his mind what face his friend would make when he woke up and saw he had brought him breakfast.
The room was empty.
Aziraphale tried that panic didn’t block him. When that happened in Glasgow was because the patient had gone home or had died.
Crowley wasn’t yet ready to go back to his home.
Alright, breathe, Aziraphale… Everything it’s alright…
No, it wasn’t!
Somebody knocked on the door, and he almost fainted.
“Father” the nurse touched his arm, gently “They told me you were here”
“Where is Cr-” he cleared his throat “Where is Mr.Crowley?”
“He is in the operating room. He’s having an emergency surgery”
“Oh, God” he sighed, half relieved, half worried.
“It will take time” continued the woman “And it’s gonna take a while until he wakes up again. And that can be late in the afternoon. If you rather go home and…”
“No, no. I’ll wait here. I’ll er… Pray for him” he took a quick look at the empty bed “He called me. A while ago. I think it will be nice to be here when he wakes up”
“Alright” she did a little pause “If you need anything, just ask the receptionists”
“Thanks”
“You know, he is getting better” the woman didn’t leave yet “He was. Your visits cheered him up”
“Really?” Aziraphale smiled, proud of himself.
“You were right. He needed some company. And you gave him your friendship”
“Sometimes medicines are not just pills and cough syrups”
The woman smirked back and then left the room.
Aziraphale approached the armchair where Crowley had been sitting in each of his visits. He put a cushion on the floor and knelt on it, resting his elbows in the armchair.
“ Our Father, who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come. Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.
Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, But deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory for ever and ever. Amen” he closed his eyes “Please, Lord, safeguard your son, Crowley. Please, Lord, safeguard my friend. Please, Lord, don’t call him by your side. Not yet. Please, Lord, let him fulfill his mission in serving you on earth. Please, Lord… Don’t take him away from me…” a single tear crossed Aziraphale’s left cheek.
Crowley was brought back to the room at 4 p.m. He was still unconscious, but his vital signs were normal. The doctors and nurses left a heart monitor connected to him. Just to make sure he made an adequate progress. Then, Dr.Pratchet left the room for a moment with Aziraphale.
“He will wake up at any moment” she said“When the anesthesia wears off a bit more”
“Thank you so much, Doctor” the priest could finally breathe normally.
They left them alone. Aziraphale grabbed a chair and sat next to Crowley. Impulsively, he grabbed his hand.
“You scared me, you know…”he chuckled.
Aziraphale did circles with his fingers in Crowley’s hand. The circles were reciprocated by the redhead moving his thumb. Aziraphale gasped.
Crowley moved a bit and opened his eyes slowly. Then he turned them to see Aziraphale.
“Oh” he smiled.
“Hi!” the priest copied his gesture.
“Good to see you”
“You called me this morning”
“Did I?”
Aziraphale’s throat dried a bit.
“Yeah” he answered softly “That’s why I came”
Everything was blurry in Crowley’s mind since the day before.
“I’m sorry” his voice was still sleepy “Maybe it’s because of the medicine. I don’t remember anything”
Aziraphale’s heart shrunk.
“Did I wake you up?”
“No, no” he put the other hand on Crowley’s tummy.
Crowley nodded and closed his eyes. Aziraphale cleared his throat.
“I brought you a croissant”
Crowley opened his eyes again. The yellow globes met the blue ones.
“What flavor?”
“Mascarpone”
“Oh!” Crowley grinned.
Back in 2019.
Crowley came finally back home. He had a bag with his medicines and another one with coffee capsules.
“I brought you something” he said from the kitchen.
“You did?”
Aziraphale was sitting in the living room, reading an Agatha Christie’s novel he had already read, just for killing time. Crowley entered the living room, sunglasses off, with a coffee tube in his hands.
“I saw it at the coffee shop and I thought you might like it”
He handed him a tube with vanilla coffee-flavored capsules.
“Oh” Aziraphale’s heart melt “Thank you, really. That’s very kind”
“I was going to prepare a coffee for myself. Do you want to try those?”
“Sure!”
Chapter 3: CHAPTER 3
Chapter Text
1 week later.
Aziraphale read the newspaper while waiting for his hot chocolate and cinnamon bun at the café. Two drug dealers were killed the night before, and the news was printed on the front page.
There was no sign of Crowley. He had texted him last night with the hour they were going to meet, but there was no answer. He knew he sometimes replied to conversations in his head and forgot to actually write them down on the phone, so he probably saw it from his notifications screen.
“Good morning” he heard a few meters away from him.
The Catholic’s voice calmed him down. He put the newspaper away for a second, seeing his friend leaning on the counter, sunglasses on, while talking to the waitress, a soft smile on his face. That expression disappeared when he walked to the table, looking to the floor and letting go of a heavy sigh. He forced a smirk though, when his sight met Aziraphale’s.
“Morning, Crowley” said the blond.
The ginger flopped on the armchair.
“Everything okay?”
“Rough night. Haven’t slept well”
Crowley looked to the ceiling, his headache threatening him of throwing up.
“If you don’t feel good we can meet another day”
“No, no…” Crowley sat correctly on the armchair “I’m fine, I’m fine”
Aziraphale looked down and opened his eyes in horror.
“What?”
Crowley felt something across his hand. He looked at it, finding a thin blood trail arriving at his fingers and dripping to the floor.
“Oh, fuck…” muttered Crowley.
Crowley quickly unbuttoned the wrist button on his left sleeve and rolled it up. A small wound kept bleeding in his forearm. Aziraphale tried to put himself together, but he was getting really anxious.
“Uh-”Crowley glanced at Aziraphale “Can you pass me a tissue?”
Aziraphale handed him a little napkin from the table. Crowley covered his wound and made a bit of pressure.
“How did you get that?”
“Oh, er-”Crowley had to think about a quick excuse “I had a little accident in the church”
Aziraphale nodded, not convinced at all, but knowing that Crowley wasn’t going to spill it out.
“Olivia!” Aziraphale called the waitress, standing up from his seat “Do you have any first aid kit?” he walked towards her “Father Crowley needs a bit of help”
“What happened to him?!” the girl turned the coffee machine off.
“Nothing important” the priest quickly calmed her down “Just a little wound he got yesterday has decided to start bleeding”
Olivia handed Aziraphale a little key.
“We’ve got a little cupboard in the toilets with the first aid kit”
“Thank you, dear” Aziraphale smiled one more time.
He got to the toilet and grabbed the first aid kit. Crowley was still sitting on the armchair with the tissue pressed on his forearm, eyes hardly closed and head up. He had to fully concentrate on holding his vomit. He heard his friend grabbing a chair and putting it next to him.
“Alright, let me see it”
Aziraphale grabbed Crowley’s arm gently and put it on his lap. He cleaned it up with another tissue, trying not to hurt Crowley.
“I’m gonna put some Betadine, ok?”said Aziraphale.
Crowley nodded, eyes still closed. When he tried to open them light was too disturbing and everything was blurry.
He felt the Betadine on his little wound. It wasn’t supposed to be bleeding; he put in some hydrogen peroxide when he came back home last night. Was it hydrogen peroxide or alcohol? He didn’t remember now. He was too tired to remember then and he was too tired now.
Aziraphale covered the wound with an unicorn aid band.
“There we go” he did a quick tap on Crowley’s hand.
“I think my head is going to explode” complained Crowley.
“How many coffees have you taken already?”
“I haven’t”
“Maybe something you had for dinner last night”
“I didn’t have dinner”
Aziraphale raised one of his eyebrows.
“When was the last time you ate?”
Crowley really had to think about it.
“At what time did we have lunch yesterday?”
“Crowley!”
Crowley shrugged. He just didn’t feel hungry. That should worry him. Because it was the first symptom of an episode. He felt how he was getting weaker for the past two days. But he wasn’t going to tell Aziraphale.
The Anglican’s phone rang. Gabriel was calling. He never called. He always texted. Why was he now calling him and not texting?
Fingers trembling, Aziraphale answered the phone after gulping the saliva that had accumulated inside his mouth.
“Gabriel?”
Aziraphale put the chair back in its place while holding the phone in the other hand.
Now Crowley’s phone vibrated. He wasn’t going to take it, but he looked to the contact name so he could think of an excuse for ‘apologizing’ later. The contact name was ‘Beelzebub’. Oh, shit.
“Father Crowley” he answered.
Both of them were demanded in their churches by noon. Something important happened. At least, that is what their bosses said. They had no rush while having their breakfast, but the calls ruined the mood a bit, and the main topic was trying to guess why they had been called.
“Did you do something bad?” asked Crowley.
“Of course not!” replied Aziraphale, truly offended by that “And you?”
“Not something they can ever find out”
Aziraphale’s jaw dropped. Crowley chuckled.
“Anyway” sighed the blond“Wanna come over at 5 pm and we spill the tea while having tea?”
“You are such a gossiper, Father Aziraphale” grinned the ginger.
“You haven’t seen my place yet” Aziraphale titled his head “And you didn’t say ‘no’, so…”
“Yeah, yeah. Excuses, excuses…”
Crowley was already waiting inside the church at noon. He had been there for the last hour, organizing his agenda.
Aziraphale had been waiting at home, looking discretely through his window. He walked outside once he saw them going off their cars.
The Catholics entered St.Mary and followed Crowley in silence through the corridor. The ginger knelt in front of the altar and crossed himself. He only did it when he was in front of other Catholics. There was no need to kneel that much.
Aziraphale guided the Anglicans to his office inside St.David, feeling the eyes on his neck, probably judging him. He had already prepared his desk in case Gabriel, Michael, or Uriel wanted some tea.
“So” Crowley sat on his office chair “What happened?”
Beelzebub, Shax, and Furfur sat in front of the priest.
“What can I get for you?”Aziraphale poured the tea into the cups, trying to hide his trembling hands.
A couple of days after Father Matthew’s death, several Police Stations in Edinburgh, Glasgow and St.Andrew were filled with hundreds of lawsuits against all the Christian Churches. The Catholics, the Evangelists, the Anglicans, the Orthodox… They were about sexual abuse, power abuse, discrimination, corruption, and human trafficking. It had been non-stop for days.
The Police of the three cities already had to get a special office in every Station to take a statement to every person who was brave enough to report those crimes. The scandal was going to be sent to the press in a few hours, and the next day would place the front cover in all the newspapers.
“Does my name appear in any of those lawsuits?” asked Crowley.
“Should it?” said Beelzebub.
“No, but somebody could take advantage of the situation” the ginger crossed his arms.
“I am not saying there are no victims in this case” Aziraphale quickly explained himself “But it’s important to know which is true and support all those victims”
“Well, that’s the police’s job” replied Gabriel.
“That’s something we don’t have to get involved” Beelzebub paused “Until the trial is over”
“Trial?” Crowley raised his eyebrows.
“Police will take testimony to all the priests inside the Christian Church in Edinburgh, Glasgow and St.Andrew” Michael took a sip of her tea.
Aziraphale nodded with a fake smirk.
“After that” continued Shax “The trial will begin”.
“This is going to take months!” Aziraphale gasped.
“Or even more than a year,” said Uriel.
“What is important here is that the Catholic Church stays together,” said Beelzebub “Whatever it happens”
The three of them stood up. Crowley kept sitting.
“What do you mean?”
“You made an agreement when you joined this church” said Furfur “We are all brothers and sisters”
“Only for the name of God. Not in front of the law”
“Well, isn’t it God the most important thing after all?”
“Goodbye, Aziraphale” Gabriel walked outside with Michael and Uriel “I’ll send you the date and time when you have to go to the Police Station to take your statement”
“Wait, Gabriel” Aziraphale almost grabbed his boss’ arm “How is handling Muriel this? Is she alright?”
“Well, they are a very strong person. They will get through this”
“Oh, they?”
“Yeah” Gabriel smiled for the first time. Aziraphale could tell he was proud. That was something strange in him “They told me a couple of weeks ago. It’s not ‘official’ yet. I would prefer if they told you in person, better than me”
“I will be very supportive of them, you know that, right?”
“You better be” Gabriel patted Aziraphale’s shoulder“Bye-bye!”
Aziraphale waited to see the three cars leaving Gilmore Place before walking back home.
***
“Did you receive the notification?” asked Crowley after the enthusiastic house tour Aziraphale just gave.
“It’s supposed to be…” Aziraphale grabbed his phone and entered his email “Here”.
Crowley also searched for it after flopping on the sofa.
“Tomorrow at 11:30a.m” he said.
“Tomorrow at 11 a.m.”
They looked at each other.
“I’ll drive you” Crowley left the phone on the coffee table.
“Thanks” Aziraphale smiled, his eyes getting a bit smaller and cheeks raising.
“My pleasure”
Aziraphale sat next to Crowley, handing him his cup of tea.
“I am really worried about Muriel” said Crowley “This can’t be easy for her”
“Them” corrected the Anglican.
“Oh” Crowley raised his eyebrows “They?”
Aziraphale nodded.
“Well, I don’t think this can be easy for them” continued Crowley “They told me they were thinking about becoming an Anglican and now this happens”
“Yeah, I know” Aziraphale sighed “But everything will be okay, once this is over”
“Yeah, but when will this be over?”
Aziraphale shrugged a sad gaze towards Crowley. The ginger’s thoughts got lost inside his head.
***
Aziraphale didn’t like Crowley’s driving. He always moved too fast through the city, even if they were on a residential street. He didn’t watch the road when he talked to Aziraphale, so the priest remained silent during the ten minutes they spent in the car. When they were approaching the police station, Crowley slowed a bit.
“We still have some time” Crowley looked at his watch “I think I saw a coffee shop on the other side of the street”
Right on the corner, a cute bakehouse welcomed the priests. Aziraphale immediately got enchanted by the beautiful muffins and cakes inside the showcase. Eyes wide open, he walked towards it, possessed by gluttony. Crowley snorted and got by his side, a playful smirk on his lips. There were a couple of people in the queue, so they had time to look at the menu. All seemed beautiful to Aziraphale.
“I need to have some energy for later. But I’m not hungry…” mumbled Crowley to himself “Maybe the marshmallow hot chocolate…”
“Marshmallow WHAT?” Aziraphale turned dramatically.
Crowley pointed to the blackboard. Aziraphale gasped loudly.
“Hi!” the waiter greeted them “What can I get for you?”
“Two marshmallows hot chocolates, please” Crowley did a two with his fingers.
Aziraphale gasped again, staring at the showcase.
“And a Red Velvet cake slice” the Anglican looked at the waiter, eyebrows fully raised.
Crowley’s heart melted as the soft smile didn’t disappear from his face.
“Why do you need energy for later?” asked Aziraphale when they sat on a table, next to the window.
“I have a medical appointment after this. Too much time outside my house drains me a bit”
“Oh, are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just a regular check”
It wasn’t.
“Nothing to worry about”
It was to worry about.
Something inside of him said that he had to call his doctor because of the symptoms he had during the past few days. She immediately set him an appointment for the following day. But he was not going to tell Aziraphale. He didn’t want him to worry.
Aziraphale felt in seventh heaven as soon as he tried the marshmallow hot chocolate. Crowley just observed in silence, enjoying every single second. He loved to see his friend like that. Happy. He didn’t see it that happy whenever he was around other Anglicans. They were always mean to him. How could they treat such a wonderful human being that bad? Another point against those stupid Anglicans.
***
They registered their names at the reception of the Police Station. Crowley first and then Aziraphale. The Catholic kept an eye on the Anglican, who was a sea of nerves since they put a foot inside the building.
“Everything will be fine” said Crowley while they followed a Constable towards the waiting room “They don’t bite. Right, Constable?”
“Well…” the Constable joked.
Then he chuckled with Crowley. Aziraphale just nodded while he looked away, observing every single detail in the police station.
The interrogations were nothing outside usual. Crowley entered the room first and provided as much information as he could. It was more difficult for him to explain everything he wanted to because he couldn’t say some things because of the secrecy summary.
Aziraphale, on the other hand, kept shaking for most of the interview. They let Crowley stay on the other side of the mirror, so Aziraphale could feel more comfortable.
“We’re used to this kind of people” said the Constable to Crowley “He is too afraid of being accused of something he hasn’t done”
“He is an angel” Crowley kept looking through the glass “He can’t do anything wrong”.
“I am not supposed to say this” the Constable approached him and whispered “But you can tell your friend that he will be out of the list of suspects right after this interview”
Crowley smirked, turning to face the policeman.
“He’ll be glad to hear that” he paused “Am I outside the list too?”
The Constable shrugged.
“We will see about that” he chuckled.
***
They still had time before the doctor’s appointment, so they walked to the hospital after leaving the Bentley in Crowley’s garage. Aziraphale stayed with him in the waiting room until Dr.Pratchet called him.
“I’ll go to donate blood, we wait for each other here, okay?” said Aziraphale.
Crowley nodded, entering the office. Dr.Pratchet waved to the Anglican.
Aziraphale tried to donate blood as much as he could. No more than four times every year. The nurses already knew him from the times he went as a volunteer. Crowley couldn’t donate blood, his heart condition didn’t allow him to. However, he encouraged people from his church to go to Aziraphale’s annual campaigns before or after the Sunday service. Sometimes people who weren't Christians came, wanting to help (and enjoy the free food).
Aziraphale felt confident when he donated blood. He was doing something important. He could save somebody’s life. The only thing he had to do was to lay on a (very comfortable) chair, open and close his hand for a few minutes and enjoy the classical music the nurses played when he was around. They treated him like a king. They asked him several times if he was comfortable or if he needed something.
However, he didn’t look at the needle when the blood was filling the bag. It scared him a little.
He had to admit it, he also loved the food. Especially the varieties of cookies they had. He liked to sit next to the water machine and wait for a few minutes while he ate his cookie and drank his juice. He grabbed the one with white chocolate sprinkles for Crowley, he would like it.
When he left the Blood Donor section he had to wait for Crowley for seven more minutes. His friend left the Doctor’s office shivering and holding his left hand. He didn’t notice Aziraphale and kept walking towards the exit. The Anglican got to his side and tapped his shoulder. The Catholic gasped, his thoughts coming back to the earth.
“It’s me” softened Aziraphale.
Crowley’s eyes were filled with tears.
“Are you okay?” Aziraphale held both of Crowley’s arms.
“Yeah, I’m fine” Crowley sniffed. Then he uncovered his hand “They took me some blood for an analysis. And they couldn’t find my arm veins, so they took it from my hand”
A chill crossed from Aziraphale’s neck to his lower back. That sounded definitely painful.
“It hurts a bit” Crowley’s voice cracked.
“You’ve been very brave” Aziraphale smiled warmly.
The Anglican led the Catholic to the exit.
Crowley felt he was really going to cry at any moment. His mother also told him how brave he was.
Aziraphale looked at his phone.
“I think it’s better if we come back by bus. The number 23 will be here in a couple of minutes.
Now they were outside, Aziraphale let Crowley walk by himself. A bit of fresh air made him feel better.
“We can get some delivery for lunch. The nurses told me not to stand for too much time” continued Aziraphale as both got to the bus stop “You can choose”
“Hm…”Crowley thought for a second “I think you might like Pepe’s”
“What is it?”
“A halal fast food restaurant. I love it” Crowley’s lips curved into a little smile.
Crowley’s phone rang. His brain clicked.
“Fuck!” he said out loud.
Aziraphale looked at him, eyebrows frowned. He was going to complain about his curse but Crowley had already answered the call.
“Anathema, hi” said Crowley “I’ll be there in a few minutes. I had a medical appointment” he paused for a few moments “Yeah, everything is fine, don’t worry” another pause “Yes, I see the bus coming. I’ll be there right back” he nodded “See you, bye”
Aziraphale knew Anathema. She had been living in Home Street for a few years now and she had an esoteric store next to the Cinema. Aziraphale had visited the place a few times to buy aromatic candles. She did them herself and he loved the smell. They also had crossed paths a few times at the café. She was a nice young lady.
“I was supposed to meet Anathema in five minutes” said Crowley, looking at the time on his phone “I forgot completely about her”.
“I’m sure she’ll understand”
“Oh, yeah, she does” Crowley looked at his friend “But now I have to go to the church with her and Newt, talk about the wedding for I don’t even know how much time…” he sighed “After this, I’m going to spend the rest of the afternoon lying on the sofa with a hot-water bottle over me”
The bus number 23 arrived. Aziraphale and Crowley stood up. There was a seat on the first floor, so they preferred to stay there instead of going up. Aziraphale’s favourite place was the third row on the second floor, but that wasn’t the moment to try to find if it was free. For none of them.
“I didn’t know she was getting married” said Aziraphale while Crowley leaned his head against the window.
“In a couple of months” said Crowley.
“In your Church? That’s quite…”
“Uncommon of her? I know”
“I mean, no offence” continued Aziraphale “But I thought your Church saw witchcraft as a sin”
“And it does” Crowley moved his head to look at Aziraphale “But one thing is what my Church says and other is what I do. I don’t think there’s going to be any of my people at that wedding”.
“Can I go?”
“I suppose” the Catholic shrugged “But I guess the bride or the groom has to invite you first” he paused for a moment, then he chuckled “Or you can be my plus one”.
Aziraphale blushed.
The bus stopped in front of the Cinema. Anathema’s store was already closed. Crowley could see her waiting with Newt at the door of his church.
“See you in a bit” said Aziraphale as he turned right in Gilmore place.
“I’ll text you when I finish”
Crowley and Aziraphale waved at the same time, his fingers brushing for a moment. Both had an inner chill, but they pretended that didn’t happen.
“Sorry about the delay!” apologized Crowley once he was near enough to the couple.
“No worries” Newt shook Crowley’s hand, the one that wasn’t bandaged.
Anathema also shook hands with the priest.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, truly worried.
“Huh?”
“Your handshake it’s fragile. Your aura is weak”
Anathema looked directly into Crowley’s eyes, under the sunglasses. He had to look away.
“I might be catching flu” Crowley shrugged, grabbing his keys “You know, with these changes of weather. Right, Newt?”
“Yes, sure” Newt nodded like he had been listening to the conversation between Crowley and Anathema.
Crowley entered first, turning all the lights on, so they could see the place better. The sky was getting cloudy, so there wasn’t too much natural light. Anathema looked around, amazed.
“Agnes was right…” she smiled, walking through the corridor.
“Who’s Agnes?” Crowley turned to face both of them.
“She is my ancestor. She predicted that I was going to feel at home the exact moment I entered this church” she kept wandering around, observing every single detail of the place.
Anathema suddenly stopped when she saw Holy Mary’s statue. She felt possessed by her. Something inside told her that she had to kneel, and so did she. She touched Mary’s hand, feeling her chest warm. Crowley and Newt were standing a few meters away, staring at her.
The priest’s sight met Anathema’s. Her smile disappeared and she let go of her hand from the statue.
“I’m so sorry for your loss” her voice cracked “You loved her so much”.
Crowley’s heart filled with sadness and he felt a pinch in his throat. He gulped.
“My office is this way” he said, walking away.
Aziraphale opened his mailbox. He didn’t expect to find anything, as bills normally arrived in a couple of weeks. But an envelope with his name was waiting for him. It didn’t have his complete name. It said ‘Father Aziraphale’. He recognized the handwriting and he smiled unconsciously. Aziraphale closed the mailbox and entered the house, excited to read the letter.
Almost an hour passed when Crowley finished his meeting with Anathema and Newt. They invited him to join them for lunch, but he excused himself as he had already plans with Aziraphale.
A distant thunder echoed on the street.
Once Newt was a few meters away from them, Anathema approached Crowley.
“Something is coming” she whispered “I can feel it. Something bad”
“You are just nervous” Crowley put one of his hands on her shoulder.
“No, it’s not about me. It’s about you”
Crowley’s hindhead hair stood on end.
“Me?”
“Please, Father Crowley” Anathema grabbed Crowley’s hands “Promise me you won’t get through this alone”.
“Get through what?”
“You know what” she squished his hands “Please, promise me”.
“I promise” he said.
“Promise in the name of your Earthly Mother and your Heavenly Mother”
Crowley had the creeps all over his body. He cleared his throat and looked into Anathema’s eyes.
“I promise in the name of my Earthly Mother and my Heavenly Mother”.
Chapter 4: CHAPTER 4
Chapter Text
Police sirens woke up Crowley in the middle of the night. Three fire trunks passed next to Aziraphale’s window, interrupting his dreams.
The Anglican looked at the clock on his side table. It was 4 a.m. His chest had a sudden pinch of worry. Something was wrong. His phone vibrated. Crowley was facetiming him.
Aziraphale turned on the little light on the nightside table and answered.
"Did you hear the police sirens?" asked the Catholic.
"I've heard the fire trunks"
"It's fucking 4 in the morning, what the hell is happening?"
"I have no idea" Azziraphale grabbed his tablet "Maybe there is something on the 24h news"
Neither Twitter nor the 24-hour channel had the answer. All he could find were people with the same questions as them.
"I can't find anything" Aziraphale's sight began to blur, tired.
"They will probably post something during the first hour of the morning" Crowley rubbed his eyes “Maybe at 6” he yawned.
"I just hope it's not something horrible" Aziraphale lay back on the bed, still holding his phone.
Crowley normally would answer that with a sentence that would try to calm him down. But this time there was only silence.
"Crowley?"
The phone still showed Crowley's head on the pillow. His eyes were closed, and his breath was slow. If he paid attention, Aziraphale could hear his soft snorts. He smiled softly. He wished they stayed the rest of the night like that. Crowley's breath relaxed him like there was nothing to worry about outside of his dreams.
"Night-night"
Aziraphale preferred to end the call. It would be strange if he woke up and found each other sleeping at the same time on Facetime. He knew he was going to stay awake the rest of the night. And Crowley needed some rest.
The Anglican walked downstairs and turned the TV on. He tried to read a book first, but his vision was still so blurry. He was sure he had fallen asleep for a few minutes while sitting on the sofa, as suddenly it was 8:30 a.m. Now the news interrupted the commercial that was playing on TV.
"We just received some devastating news" said the reporter "Fire has broken out in St. David's orphanage" her eyes filled with tears "The firefighters are still trying to get everybody out while they extinguish the fire. But still, there is no sign of survivors" she paused for a moment "We still don't know if it was an accident or something else".
Aziraphale covered his mouth with his hands. Tears dropped down his face. That orphanage was full of people. Innocent children... Children! All ages. He sobbed as he started a lower prayer for their souls. And the nuns who took care of them... What kind of person would do that?
He heard rough knocks on his door. He hoped to find Crowley on the other side. But instead, it was Gabriel who waited outside.
"Guess you already heard about the fire" said his boss.
Aziraphale just nodded, still crying silently.
"Get dressed, we have an important meeting at the office in 1 hour".
Gabriel drove them to Haymarket, next to St. Gabriel's church (yes).
Aziraphale wanted to ask Crowley if he could come over and pick him up when they finished, but his phone was out of battery. He felt like he was going to start crying again. He was trapped with people he didn’t like, and he couldn’t contact his best friend…
“The Anglicans did this” said Shax right after Crowley entered the office, holding a paper cup of coffee. He wore his sunglasses so they couldn’t see his red eyes from crying.
It took him a few seconds to process what she said.
“St. David was an Anglican orphanage” snorted Crowley.
“Exactly” Furfur sat next to him.
“They panicked with the lawsuits” said Beelzebub “And they are trying to leave us as the bad guys”.
Crowley clenched the fist that wasn’t holding the cup. His eyes still hurt and felt like he was going to start crying again. ‘For Mary’s sake, control yourself’ , he thought. He had forced himself to not show any emotion since Beelzebub had knocked on his door.
“Children have died” mumbled Crowley.
“Anglicans are capable of doing anything just to pretend to be angels from heaven” said Shax.
“And leave Catholics like demos from hell” completed Furfur.
“The Catholics did this” said Michael right after Gabriel had closed the door behind him and Aziraphale.
“Why would they do this?” Aziraphale’s voice cracked.
“It’s a declaration of war” said Uriel “They are trying to destroy our Church from inside”.
“Since when Anglicans are fighting against Catholics!?” said Aziraphale in a high pitch.
“Well, officially, we are not at war” Gabriel gave Aziraphale a bottle of water “But since the lawsuits, tensions have increased between priests”.
“They want us to think we are the bad guys” Michael leaned on a wall “Just because we don’t venerate their Holy Trinity”.
“That we are impure” continued Uriel.
“But they are the bad guys” finished Gabriel.
Aziraphale was speechless. At least all they were saying was just speculation and they didn’t publish anything against the Catholics.
“Yesterday Gabriel filmed an interview where he said all he thought about the Catholics” Beelzebub searched in their laptop “They broadcasted it on TV last night”.
“You did what!?” Aziraphale yelled when they showed him the video.
The TV had filmed an interview with Gabriel where he exposed facts about why the Catholics were damaging the world and why the trial would destroy their base in Edinburgh and possibly in Scotland. And that was something he was so excited to see.
“But…” Aziraphale’s breath kept cutting as he tried to speak "This is an actual war declaration! Why did you do this? Do you know how this will change everything?”
“Sure!” Gabriel smiled, confident “Why would I avoid a war between Anglicans and Catholics? Why would I avoid something we are going to win? And not only that, but we could also erase the Catholics from Edinburgh!”
“Wars are meant to be won, not avoided” Michael also smiled.
‘I work with sociopaths’ , thought Aziraphale.
“I’m not going to participate in whatever this is” Crowley threw the paper cup from his seat to the trash can.
“The city is organizing a minute of silence” said Shax “All the Christians churches will attend”
Crowley tightened his jaw.
“We have to attend” said Michael “It would be a shame if some members of the Anglican Church don’t pray for the souls of innocent children”.
“They are already building a memorial at the castle” said Gabriel.
“With bouquets and all that paraphernalia” Beelzebub rolled their eyes.
“We will go just for the press” said Furfur “If we don’t go, we will have several critics by tomorrow”.
***
Aziraphale and Crowley were sent to each of their homes to change their clothes into black suits, but neither of them had a moment to text or call the other.
The procession would start from Holyrood Palace and finish at the Castle. They prepared the entire Royal Mile for them. Any person or transport couldn’t cross the street.
Aziraphale felt sick when he saw all these people reunited. They were there because the beautiful city of Edinburgh had been hit by a tragedy. And probably most of them were there just for the press.
Aziraphale looked for a crimson point between all those umbrellas. But trying to see through the rain and the fog was difficult. He thought about approaching the Catholics, but it wasn’t the most appropriate thing to do.
He saw a little kiosk full of flowers from a florist he had seen a few times at the Royal Mile. He approached, leaving the Anglicans behind.
“Hello” greeted the woman, with a sad smile.
“Good afternoon” Aziraphale did the same.
Aziraphale looked at the bouquets. All were beautiful and had been created with care. His heart shrunk when he noticed a delicate bouquet of white daisies.
“Daies are the flower of childhood” Aziraphale’s voice cracked.
“I know” the woman’s eyes were filled with tears “Innocence and purity”
Aziraphale had to take a moment, so the tears didn’t drop again.
“I think” he cleared his throat “I’m going to get this one”.
The woman smiled again and prepared the bouquet to be taken.
“How much is it?” asked the priest grabbing his wallet.
“Oh, no no” hurried the woman “The bouquets are for free. I’m not trying to make money from a tragedy like this”.
Aziraphale sobbed.
“I insist” he said “You prepared all of this within hours with so much care and…”
“I did it with all my good intentions, really” the woman put one of his hands on Aziraphale’s arm.
Both smiled. Aziraphale looked into the woman’s eyes. Goodness and purity were reflected in them even through the sadness.
“Then I’ll take your visit card” said Aziraphale taking the card “And I’ll come to visit in a few days”
“I’m looking forward to it” she chuckled “I’m Maggie” she held out her hand.
“Father Aziraphale” he took it.
Crowley was so uncomfortable. He wanted to go home, put on his pyjama and spend the rest of the day devastated and crying on the sofa. Instead, he had to be wearing a black suit that had got wet because of the rain (even though Shax had given him an umbrella), standing by his feet, feeling cold, dizzy and weak, with people he didn’t want to be with and without knowing where Aziraphale was. He couldn’t move from his position but hoped that for some reason Aziraphale would walk past him and they could talk for a moment. But he was probably not able to move either.
“Crowley” Frufur touched his shoulder suddenly.
Crowley gasped and turned, feeling a disgusting chill all over his back. ‘Why the fuck is he touching me?’ he thought.
“We are starting now” continued Furfur.
Crowley snarled and followed his colleague. Beelzebub had offered him to be in the first row alongside them, but he moved in silence to the third one.
Right in front of the Anglicans, the bagpipes started playing at a funeral rhythm, beginning the procession. The Catholics were the third.
Aziraphale was in the first row, Muriel and Gabriel on his left and Uriel and Michael on his right. He wasn’t supposed to be at the front of the procession. It was clear that Gabriel didn’t want him here, for the constant disapproving looks he gave him. But Muriel insisted on having Aziraphale by one of their sides. And Gabriel couldn’t say ‘no’ to his sibling.
As they were reaching Gladstone’s Land, Crowley’s attention was captured by a bubble. If he wasn’t holding the umbrella, he would have tried to catch it with his hands. Another bubble wandered in front of him. His eyes moved quickly around him as he wanted to find where it came from. A little kid with the window of their house open was being scolded by their mom but in a soft and caring way. She took the bubble bottle away from the kid with one hand and with the other caressed their hair.
Crowley felt his cheeks getting wet. Not because of the rain and the wind. He found himself suddenly crying in silence, as the procession kept going and the kid with their mom got far and far from him until he couldn’t see them anymore.
The procession stopped as they arrived at the castle. The bagpipes still playing. One-half of the people moved to the right and the other to the left, leaving a small corridor between them. The bagpipes stopped playing.
Now silence surrounded the Royal Mile.
Aziraphale took a step forward, holding his bouquet. Nobody else followed him. Gabriel even looked away and grabbed Muriel by their arm, so they didn’t walk outside the umbrella. Michael tried to stop Aziraphale by giving him a defiant look, but the priest kept approaching the memorial.
There was only the sound of rain and sobbing around.
Aziraphale’s tears were mixed with the rain running down his face. He held the flowers with both hands. He knew people’s eyes were on him. Breathing was getting difficult.
The little altar already had lots of flowers. And pictures of the victims. Aziraphale sobbed, having to stop for a moment before kneeling in front of the altar. He accommodated the daisies next to another bouquet.
The rain stopped over him. An umbrella was covering his body. He looked up, finding a pair of sunglasses staring at him.
Crowley held out his hand. Aziraphale took it to stand up. They hugged. In front of everyone. A Catholic and an Anglican. Together in their grief for the city.
“It’s not fair…” whispered Aziraphale, voice muffled by Crowley’s shoulder.
“It’s not…” Crowley’s voice cracked “It’s not fucking fair” he pressed his free hand on Aziraphale’s head for holding him tighter.
Their intimate gesture ended up on the news.
‘An Anglican and a Catholic hug under the rain, leaving their differences behind’
‘Churches joined by their grief’
‘A hug says more than 1000 words’
Of course, their Churches used that as marketing. Gabriel granted interviews saying things like “See? We are not as different as they make us think?” ‘What a fucking irony’ , thought Crowley.
But after that, Crowley and Aziraphale had a private ‘tutoring session’ about how inappropriate their behavior was.
Aziraphale wished Crowley was there to comfort him as Gabriel explained repeatedly that he should have stayed in his place at the castle. Crowley just disconnected his brain as soon as Beelzebub started speaking.
None of them were able to leave the offices until after 7 pm. Crowley was waiting for Aziraphale at the Tram Station, far enough from both buildings so they didn’t see them leaving together.
“How did it go?” asked Aziraphale as they started returning home.
Crowley’s answer was just a simple shrug.
The rain had stopped for a while. But as soon as they reached McEwan Square, they heard distant thunder followed by some quiet raindrops. It was okay, they were used to this. Just as usual in Edinburgh.
As they were getting closer to home, the rain intensified. By the time they were crossing Leamington Lift Bridge, Aziraphale and Crowley had to start running before they got too wet.
Aziraphale’s home was the nearest, so he quickly opened the door and dragged Crowley inside. Both leaned on the door, trying to catch their breath.
A nearby lightning illuminated the entrance through the living room window.
“Stay here” said Aziraphale, taking off his jacket and walking inside the house “I’ll bring you a towel”
Crowley’s body shivered like a leaf. His chest hurt from the effort he just made, his heart threatening to pump out of him. He stopped feeling his arms for a moment, which was scary. His legs got weaker, and his head felt heavy. His vision got blurry and before he could hold onto something, he was on the floor.
Crowley’s last thought before fading away was that his wet hair was dripping on Aziraphale’s carpet.
Chapter 5: Chapter 5
Chapter Text
“Crowley!”
Aziraphale dropped the towel he was holding and ran towards Crowley, kneeling in front of him. The ginger had already faded away, his eyes closed, and his body rigid.
“Crowley! Crowley!” Aziraphale shook Crowley’s body, trying to wake him up.
He grabbed the towel from the floor and dried Crowley’s face, not giving up on his attempt to wake the priest up.
“Hm?” Crowley muttered, his eyes opening slightly.
“Crowley…” Aziraphale held him gently by the shoulder.
“Your carpet…” Crowley’s voice was weak “It’s wet…”
“I’m going to help you up, all right?”
Crowley’s answer was a grunt. Aziraphale slowly sat Crowley on the stairs leading to the first floor.
“Take deep breaths. I’ll get you some water”
Aziraphale rushed to the kitchen and filled a glass of water. Crowley tried to steady himself, not wanting to get his wet hair on the wall. The world around him seemed to move at a different speed, his vision still blurry.
The glass Aziraphale gave him felt cold in his hand, strange, heavy. But the Anglican’s fingers, brushing against his, felt warm, familiar, gentle. For a moment, Crowley wished he could hold it against his chest, so the cold inside of him would ease a little bit.
“We need to get you into some dry clothes.”
Aziraphale slipped his arms under Crowley’s to help him stand. He guided him carefully upstairs, one hand on the ginger’s waist and the other holding the now-empty glass of water, one step at a time.
Both of them were soaked, but now the priority was getting the Catholic into something dry before he fainted again.
“My medicines…” mumbled Crowley as he let Aziraphale remove his jacket.
“Where do you have them?” asked Azirpahale, pulling off Crowley’s shirt and throwing it next to the wet jacket.
“Home…” Crowley coughed. “They are at home…”
If Crowley hadn’t been on the verge of collapsing again, Aziraphale might have scolded him. He knew the man’s health was fragile, but still, he didn’t take proper care of himself. But Aziraphale had to get them. Otherwise, things could get worse. And the weather didn’t look ideal for an emergency trip to the hospital.
“Do you think you can stand by yourself?” asked Aziraphale as he held Crowley’s hands to help him up from the edge of the bath.
“I think so…”
Crowley’s vision had cleared, and the world had finally stopped spinning. Still, he wasn’t sure he would manage to get into the shower by himself, but it was too weird to ask Aziraphale to help him.
“I’ll go change into dry clothes, okay?” Aziraphale removed his own jacket and threw it with the rest of Crowley’s clothes. “It will be just a second, but take it easy. And if you need me, just yell, okay?”
“Like a goat?”
Aziraphale couldn’t hide his little giggle of amusement as he left the bathroom.
The priest quickly changed the remains of his black suit into his usual beige clothes. He could hear the running water coming from the bathroom as he fetched one of his pyjamas for Crowley.
“Can I use your robe?” asked Crowley, raising his voice.
“Of course!” replied Aziraphale as he walked back to his friend.
Aziraphale knocked on the door before stepping inside. Crowley was shivering again, wrapped in the robe he had just borrowed.
“There. You can wear it while I go to get your medicines. I’ll bring you some clothes too.”
Crowley’s lips curved in a faint smile.
“Thank you,” he mumbled.
Aziraphale turned away as Crowley slowly changed into the pyjama. It hung a bit loose on Crowley’s body, but it felt warm and comfortable. It smelled like Aziraphale, and Crowley found himself wanting to curl into them to fall asleep.
Aziraphale held Crowley’s arm to help him walk to his guest room and gently helped him lie down.
“There we go…” said Azairaphale softly as he tucked Crowley under the covers. “It won’t be long, okay? I’ll be back as soon as possible”.
Crowley nodded, his body adjusting to the warmth beneath the blanket. Aziraphale gave him a light squeeze before leaving the room.
Aziraphale spent a thoughtful amount of time getting ready before he got out to the street. The rain lashed against the windows, and the wind howled as if it were the end of the world.
The priest put on his raincoat and a scarf to cover most of his face. There was no point in taking an umbrella; it would be broken soon after he had closed the door.
Gilmore Place was completely covered by fog.
Aziraphale could not see what was a few steps away from him. Someone unfamiliar with the town would easily get lost in weather like this, but the priest unconsciously knew every turn by heart.
Aziraphale had seen fog like this only once before. Fifteen years ago.
***
2002.
Aziraphale had recently moved to Edinburgh. He was finishing cleaning up the church when he heard some knocks on his door.
"Come in,” he called from the altar.
The door opened. Azriaphale turned towards the aisle, but no one stepped inside.
"Hello?" The priest walked down the aisle, towards the entrance. "Anybody there?"
The church door stood open, and dense fog was spilling in. Aziraphale pulled his cardigan tight around himself, shivering from the cold.
And then he heard it.
A baby’s cry.
Aziraphale froze.
He stood still for a moment, then cautiously stepped outside and peered into the fog. A basket sat on the doorstep. And the basket cried.
He approached carefully. A baby wrapped in a blanket was placed in the basket. Aziraphale glanced around. The fog was so thick he couldn’t see more than two feet ahead. There was no sign of any human presence. Only him and the baby.
Aziraphale's first instinct was to bring the baby inside. He shut the door and sighed, setting the basket gently on he floor. Whoever had left the baby couldn’t have gone far, not in weather like this.
The priest crouched down and lifted the baby into in his arms. A small note slipped to the floor. Cradling the baby with one arm, he picked it up with the other.
"Take care of her. Her name is Evelyn."
Aziraphale placed the baby back in the basket and hurried to put on his coat and gloves. He wrapped Evelyn in the blanket and tucked his own scarf around her for warmth. Evelyn was already calming down. He grabbed his keys and walked outside, determined to find her mother.
It was the mother, he was sure of it. Every Sunday, an ultra-religious family visited his church: a man and a woman with their only daughter, Aileen. She was still a teenager, as she told Aziraphale once that she was still studying. She also confessed to him that she was pregnant. He never knew officially if she was going to have the baby or if her parents knew about it.
Now he was certain that Evelyn was Aileen's baby. If her parents knew about it, they would have probably kicked her out of the house. Maybe she was homeless. Maybe she needed help. Aziraphale could give her that help.
The priest walked around foggy Edinburgh for hours, calling out, asking, looking everywhere, but nothing.
He walked back home, defeated, exhausted, and with a newborn he had to take care of until he decided what to do next.
Fortunately, the congregation kept some baby supplies, such as diapers and powdered milk, from donations to families in need. Aziraphale and Evelyn now needed it more than anyone.
He carefully followed the instructions on the package and managed to feed her. He even built a crib so the baby could sleep comfortably in his home.
Aziraphale couldn’t sleep that night. Every few minutes, he rose to check on her, terrified that something could happen to her. The only person he told was his friend Nina, who lived across the street.
The next morning, with Nina watching over Evelyn, Aziraphale could try to guess what was happening. Gabriel was waiting for him at the Haymarket offices.
“Remember that teenage girl, the daughter of the Rogers?” asked Gabriel as they walked.
Aziraphale’s heart skipped a beat.
“Y-yes. I remember her. Aileen.”
“She was found dead this morning. She jumped from the North Bridge.”
***
2019.
Aziraphale stepped back into his house and shut the door behind him with a heavy sigh.
“Crowley! It’s me, I’m back!”
“Good!” Crowley answered back.
Aziraphale kicked off his boots and hung up his coat. He had kept everything he needed in a backpack he placed under the coat so it didn’t get wet.
While he spoke to Dr. Pratchet through the speaker, Aziraphale had gathered Crowley’s medicines and some clothes for the days he could stay at his house.
The Doctor had given him detailed instructions: what Crowley could and couldn’t eat, and asked to be kept informed daily until Crowley recovered or the storm passed.
Before returning to the bedroom, Aziraphale prepared some tea and toasts so Crowley wouldn’t have to take his medicine on an empty stomach.
“I know it’s not a mascarpone croissant, but you need to eat something,” he placed the tray on the bed.
“Thank you,” Crowley murmured, smiling softly.
The Catholic sat up in bed and ate slowly, his eyes fixed on the TV. He had been watching the news since Aziraphale had left earlier.
“They say the storm will last three days,” Crowley took a sip of his tea.
Aziraphale looked at Crowley. So Crowley had to stay for at least three days.
“People are not going to work, and they are strongly advising everyone to stay home,” continued Crowley. “I should probably post something to let people know I can’t do the service via Zoom since I am not feeling well,” he looked for his phone, his mouth stuffed.
Aziraphale’s heart ached. He thought about all those people who were alone in their homes and had to spend three days locked in their houses without any human contact.
Without noticing, he let out a shaky sigh he had been holding in.
“Are you alright?” asked Crowley.
“Y-yes. It’s just…” Aziraphale cleared his throat. “Those poor people… Who might be alone and… maybe sick…” his eyes filled with tears.
“I am very lucky to have you,” Crowley smiled softly, placing a hand on Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Without you, I would be one of those people alone and sick at home. And I am sure there are plenty of others being cared for too.”
“You think so?” the Anglican wiped one tear from his cheek.
“I am sure.”
Crowley slid his hand +down Aziraphale’s arm to hold his hand and give it a light squeeze. The priest felt some of the tension fading away by just staying like this, holding his friend’s hand. The touch of the other man’s fingers wrapped around his palm felt right, so right…
Aziraphale’s tears stopped, replaced by a soft and warm smile.
An alarm broke the moment. Aziraphale had to get ready for his service.
***
2019.
Aziraphale brought Evelyn to St.Michael’s orphanage in Glasgow. He didn’t tell Gabriel or the Rogers. They all assumed Aileen jumped from the bridge with her baby and both had died.
Aziraphale and Nina prepared everything in secret and drove to Glasgow. Some of the nuns had studied with him, and they accepted Evelyn with open arms.
Evelyn grew up with Aziraphale visiting her every now and then. She knew him as the priest who sometimes performed little magic tricks for the orphans. She was adopted when she was five by a lesbian couple, and asked the nuns to keep sending him postcards and letters to Edinburgh, so they kept in touch.
Evelyn was a teenager now, and she had her own phone, but she still preferred to write to him by mail. Aziraphale loved every single time he received news from her, and wasted no time writing her back. She had never asked about her mom, but if she ever did, Aziraphale knew he would speak of Aileen with the respect and affection she deserved.
Sometimes, Aziraphale still prayed for Aileen, telling her how her little girl had grown into a strong young woman. But he didn’t think it was truly necessary. He was sure that Aileen’s soul was still with Evelyn.
***
2019.
Aziraphale ended his service via Zoom and closed his laptop. He rubbed his eyes, tired.
He had prepared his guest's room so he could sleep there while Crowley stayed in the main bedroom; he would be way more comfortable.
Quietly, Aziraphale peeked in to check on him. Crowley had already changed into one of his pyjamas and was fast asleep. His shirt had lifted slightly, showing part of the snake tattoo curling across his back. Aziraphale gently adjusted the fabric and pulled the blanket up to cover him.
He tried to sleep, but he couldn’t. And stayed up all night checking on Crowley again and again.
IOMT666 on Chapter 1 Sun 08 Dec 2024 05:58PM UTC
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AndyLehnsherr on Chapter 1 Mon 09 Dec 2024 12:49PM UTC
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