Chapter Text
Crowley HATED Christmas. Not only was it a time of the year where people decided to be happy DESPITE the miserable weather but the catholic church had also decided to adopt it (despite all the demonic activity against it) making it a religious holiday on top of everything.
This had led to the already overexcited people praying and singing blessed songs and selling abundances of Jesus statues and religious tree ornaments and despite all the Greed that had tainted the chaotic culture of the event, all the positive energy was still strong enough to make the demon sick. Quite literally.
A group of carollers passed him by with bells, harmonicas and wide smiling faces and Crowley felt the world around him start to tilt. His hand instinctively held onto the nearest wall as he entered another coughing fit. It was as if the songs and joyous thoughts had somehow infested the air, just to make him choke.
The spinning was starting again. He would have just miracled it away, if it was as simple as a wave of dizziness after a long night of rat poison but this was different. This was holy.
Whatever powers he had had been drained out of him a long time ago, leaving him as an empty shell of a demon that was so feeble that the simple act of moving too quickly made him see stars.
He tried to calm his breathing, leaning against the wall and slowly sliding down. His breaths were much too shallow, his messy vision indicating that maybe he wasn’t getting enough air.
Enough air??
What was he thinking?! He was a demon for Satan’s sake, he didn’t even need to breathe! It was just this bloody Christmas spirit that was messing him up! He should have just stayed home… should have just slept through it all instead of going out and trying to regain control of the situation by performing random demonic miracles.
Admittedly, making all of the tea and hot chocolate ice cold had ruined a lot of people’s day but it simply wasn’t enough. It wasn’t enough.
Another coughing fit shook his body. His cough was getting worse by the second. He didn’t want to breathe anymore, though that barely helped.
A strong pinch to the wrist was usually enough to motivate him to do whatever it was he was dreading but regrettably it didn’t do the trick this time, despite the fact that all he wanted to do was just get up and go home.
He tried scolding himself instead; reminding himself that he had just allowed history to get to this point, he had just let this blessed holiday happen and that he was partially to blame for it existing.
With all of his willpower, he dragged himself up and, fighting the wave of dizziness that followed, made his way back the way he came.
Moving was surprisingly difficult all of a sudden. His legs felt stiff and awkward. Sluggish, possibly due to the freezing cold. Very quickly the demon started leaned into the walls and light poles or whatever was near for support while he navigated the increasingly confusing streets.
The deep dark blue sky seemed to be melting into the tall buildings and brick streets while the bright festive lights were leaving smear marks as they danced and turned and twisted around madly. The thin blanket of snow wasn’t helping, serving only to mess with his steps and distort the colourful glow even further.
Saying it was vertigo would be generous. Saying that everything surrounding him was being mangled into a kind of inescapable Christmas HELL was much more accurate.
Just as he was beginning to doubt that his legs knew where they were going, he noticed the vague shape of a beggar shivering. He had seen the same absolutely miserable person before and had felt just as much pleasure from it.
The sorrowful aura seeped into him and like a moth to the flame, he got closer, leaning against the wall next to the delicious suffering. It helped a bit, almost supressing all of the good vibes swimming in the air. The demon sighed in relief.
“Don’t fall asleep William.” He teased.
The old man startled and looked around until his tired eyes met the demons blank and unreadable sunglasses. Who would wear sunglasses in the winter? At night?? And most importantly-
“How do you know my name??“
“I’m your fathers uncles third son.” Crowley lied, basking in the beggar’s anguish.
“I don’t even have… nevermind.”
“Drinking might help with the cold.” The demon suggested, handing the man some cash. Too much cash. Way too much. Williams face lit up.
“You can’t be serious.”
“I know you’ve missed the taste of whiskey.”
“ARE YOU KIDDING? I could stay at a hotel for weeks with this! I could fucking sleep in a good bed! I could shower! I… Thank you so much-“
But his words fell on deaf ears for the demon had already disappeared into the shadows.
Technically, he had only tempted somebody into buying a drink. It wouldn’t appear in his report to downstairs what the old bugger had ended up using all of his money on. Crowley secretly hoped that it was used on not-dying.
He knew from experience that discorporating by freezing to death was not a fun way to go, especially not on a day like this.
Slowly but surely, his sense of balance waved him goodbye once more as his only energy source disappeared off into the distance. His eyelids were starting to betray him as well, resting just a bit too long every time he blinked. He had to blink. He was just too tired not to. Too many miracles, he thought, even though he had barely performed any.
He had barely done anything today, yet he felt like gravity had increased tenfold. What a sad excuse for a demon he was. It had only been wishful thinking, the idea that if he just went outside he would magically stop being useless. He was useless. A useless serpent that should just return to its hide and never step out ever again.
It was fine. He was on his way; he could just grit his teeth and manage and then get home and sleep for a week until it was all over. Sleep. For a week. Forever. Yes.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and his entire body froze.
With a hiss, he slapped it away, turning around to see who in the world had decided to bother him on this awful day.
Oh.
Oh fuck.
“Crowley!” the angel beamed. “Oh, it’s been too long! I almost didn’t recognize you through all of that…” and he gestured at the demon’s thick layers of clothing. “…wool!”
“Not in the mood. Go away.” the serpent hissed, hoping that that would be enough to get rid of the dangerous presence. He didn’t fear Aziraphale, of course. The angel was too round and soft and friendly for him to be ever even considered a threat.
However, Crowley was feeling very fragile and all of his instincts were screaming at him to stay away from any and all angels until he was at least strong enough to stand upright.
“Why? What’s wrong dear?”
Crowley turned away and tried walking faster, as fast as his frozen legs would allow at least. He managed well, muffling most of his coughs but then another fit came and he suddenly found himself on his knees, the fit was shaking all sense of direction out of him and the waves of disorientation had him gripping at the snow for support.
The angel was by his side in a heartbeat, gently patting him on the back and stopping when his hand was swiped away once more.
“Dear?”
“Merry Christmas.” The demon grumbled, once he could speak again.
“Oh? Oh!” and Aziraphale finally understood. He looked around, seemingly only now noticing that all this merry holy energy was great and all but probably really terrible for his demonic companion. “Crowley, I could help.” He offered, unsure on how exactly he would do that.
“Help me by getting lost.” He managed before coughing his lungs out once more.
The fit left him panting, desperately gasping for air. It was pathetic. He looked up to see the angel’s blue eyes still looking down at him and scoffed. He wasn’t angry. He was furious. At himself mostly. He couldn’t believe that he let his friend… enemy… Aziraphale see him when he was in such a wretched state.
Leaning heavily against a wall, he got up again, praying and hoping that his knees wouldn’t buckle up before he could get away. He half-heartedly swiped the angels helping hand away once more and tried to keep going.
Of course, Aziraphale was an asshole and followed.
They walked together; Crowley cursing and hugging the wall and Aziraphale following and eyeing the demon with concern.
“Dear, we could get there faster if you just let me help.”
“Don’t want your help.”
The angel frowned at that. “Why not? I always let you help me when I need it.”
If he wasn’t so weak, Crowley would have laughed at that. “With miracles, maybe. And even then, you never directly ask me to help you.”
“Dear, that’s not the point.”
“This isn’t a miracle, angel.” And he stopped briefly to cough. Go-Satan, he was tired. If the angel would just leave him alone, he would drop to the ground in an instant and sleep on the thin mattress of snow until all of this was over. But, no, bad thought, that would get him killed. Stupid. Very stupid, keep going.
“It’s a miracle that you haven’t fainted yet.” The angel said. “Really, you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. There is nothing wrong with getting some help, it doesn’t make you a bad demon or anything.”
“It means admitting weakness.” Crowley hissed and instantly regretted it. He had just given Aziraphale something to scold him about, great, just what he needed.
The angel didn’t say anything.
Crowley forced himself to tilt his head and see his expression. He looked sad.
Ugh, fuck. He hated seeing Aziraphale sad.
Doesn’t matter just keep going, it’s not that far, just get home and worry about the angel later. Surely, a free lunch would earn him forgiveness for… whatever the hell he had done wrong this time. He wasn’t exactly sure. He wasn’t exactly sure on anything at the moment.
Crowley’s footstep came to a stop and for a moment, the both of them wondered why. Then his eyelids fell closed and Crowley felt himself fall briefly.
He shook his head, although that didn’t help at all. His vision was very dark and yet, despite the fact that his eyes were open. For a moment he wondered if he had been wrong in thinking that he was on the cold streets and not on some sort of ship. A ship that was going through a storm with full speed, while drunk and also it was winter.
He tried to guide his hand towards his face but tender fingers stopped him, drawing small warm circles into his palm until his vision came back.
Aziraphale.
Aziraphale was holding him.
“Crowley, dear?”
“Hm.”
“I’m going to help you now.”
It wasn’t a question. Crowley sighed and let the angel grab his side with one hand and hold his arm over the angel’s shoulder with the other. They got up a bit too fast and the demon winced, leaning into the angel for support.
“S-Sorry… too fast?”
“way too fast.”
He tried to get away and carry himself for the most part but the angel was insistent, forcing Crowley to lean into him.
They started walking again. Together. Really together. Maybe, admittedly, regrettably it was a lot easier this way. Not exactly what the demon would call pleasant; touching and angel in such a sickly state felt terrifying more than anything but it wasn’t the worst.
Mostly because his mind was too foggy to really register the unpleasantness.
“Where are we going by the way?”
“Home.”
“Crowley, dear…” the angel smiled. “I don’t have a clue where you live.”
“Good.”
“No, not good. I have to get you there, remember?”
Oh!
Oh no!
“No, no, no, no. You’re not supposed to know where I live!” the demon argued, weakly trying to get out of the angels grasp. Aziraphale only held him tighter in response.
“Relax, I wouldn’t dream of… whatever it is you think I’ll do. I couldn’t just throw away thousands of years of understanding and trust like that.”
“Understanding?”
“…well…”
“Trust??”
“You’re not making this any easier.” The angel said. “Why don’t you just tell-“
“You’re the one not making it easier. You’re always all smiles but you’re distant. You don’t… you’re not…” Crowley argued, misunderstanding Aziraphale completely. “…not like that with others. Only me. You’re only distant to me, I can’t trust you.”
Aziraphale frowned. Obviously, the demon was speaking nonsense. He was in no position to be keeping secrets, if he didn’t tell then Aziraphale would be forced to just take him to his own home and Crowley would just have to deal with that.
And yet… yet this was clearly something that had been bothering the poor dear but he had never spoken about it before.
“Surely you do trust me, otherwise you wouldn’t have bothered rescuing me as often as you did.” the angel reasoned.
“I do try to make it easier.” He said, going back to his original, misunderstood point. “‘s not my fault.”
Aziraphale considered this as he tried to gage where the demon might live. It was true that although he was a lot warmer to other people, he tried to keep his distance from Crowley. A professional distance. A I’m-scared-that-you-will-tempt-me-into-lust kind of distance.
Crowley on the other hand was much more forward and had even saved him once or twice (if he used the term saving in the vaguest possible sense). They were both supernatural entities after all and most situations they entered had easy ways out. Crowley really just saved him from injuries and maybe a lot of paperwork…
The more he thought about it the more obvious it become. Maybe the demon had been trying to get his guard down. Get him to treat him like the angel would treat any other person.
But Aziraphale was scared… scared of how far Crowley could go if given the chance.
Still… still, the demon was trying. Meanwhile he…
And he looked at the exhausted pale demon handing loosely off his shoulder.
…he had never even bothered to get to know Crowley well enough to known about his holiday-condition.
How utterly rude of him. He felt ashamed. His hand gently pulled the demon closer to himself in order to steady him and maybe wake him up a bit more, his legs were starting to drag. The yellow eyes that had always glowed with such ambition were now dull and unfocused behind the almost-fallen-off sunglasses and it just broke Aziraphale’s heart into a million-
“we’re here.” He whispered.
“Oh?” the angel looked around. “Which building?”
“not a building.” Crowley pointed at the alleyway and the angel gulped.
No way Crowley was living on the streets, right? This had to be either a joke or some way to get rid of him because Crowley was too much of a coward to give him his address, apparently.
No, actually it was just visual trickery.
One of the walls of the alleyway was in fact a secret door, placed there by some miracle, which lead to a very tiny corridor which lead to a very tiny room. It was warm and almost damp and completely filled with blankets and pillows and one dim light fixture on the low low ceiling.
It was a burrow more than anything. A snake’s hideout.
Aziraphale smiled. Cute. This is where he hid from the world. Where he rested until the cold passed. He felt almost honoured to be let in.
Crowley had passed out, his body was exhaustedly leaning into the angels, head nuzzling into his warmth. Aziraphale laid him into the cocoon of blankets and started inspecting him.
He had seen the serpent passed out before, once, but that time he had fallen asleep after a lovely night of drinking. The demon before him looked nothing like the blushing drunkenly smiling Crowley he had laid eyes upon that night.
The healthy glow of his skin was gone, leaving behind only a sickly white. His chest was rising and falling slowly but there was an audible rattle to his breath, disturbed by very regular coughing fits that made the demon curl up into a ball.
His cheekbones were also sticking out much more than usual and there were lilac bags under his eyes. Aziraphale couldn’t decide whether the bags were the result of his pale skin showing the veins underneath or if Crowley had actually ACTUALLY gone a while without sleeping.
He wished he could ask, although he knew he would probably not get any answers.
All in all, the demon could probably do with some food and water and maybe some warmth, the angel decided, caressing the cold cheek of his best friend.
Some rest too, definitely. Poor dear.
Soup would probably do him some good. Did Crowley enjoy chicken soup? Did snakes even eat chickens? He knew the way Crowley eyed the pigeons whenever they would walk past some, although… that might be because he liked to scare them away but refused to do so in the angel’s presence.
Aziraphale had seen that too; Crowley childishly chasing after the birds the second he thought he was out of the angel’s sight.
He chuckled at the thought.
Yes, chicken soup would probably help.
The demon stirred a bit and Aziraphale did his absolute best to turn his divine grace down a notch. The last thing he wanted the poor demon to see when he woke up was a heavenly glowing being. Despite his best attempt, Crowley flinched when he saw him.
A low hiss escaped him. Then after a long moment his confusion gave way to embarrassment.
“Sorry.” He said, awkwardly.
“It’s alright I forgive… er.” The angel said, blushing slightly.
Crowley looked around, taking in the sight of his well-loved hideaway. He always felt safe here but that feeling was gone now. He wasn’t scared exactly, not of the beautiful angel sitting right next to him. No, rather he felt utterly ashamed. Humiliated to have the angel here, looking down on him as he was wrapped into his random assortment of blankets.
What was even worse was that he couldn’t for the life of himself string together the memories that led them there.
He remembered feeling very anxious and trapped and cornered and going outside in order to ‘shut this whole Christmas thing down’ but things had turned out to be a lot harder than he had anticipated. He had been a lot weaker than he had anticipated.
So… when had he invited this angel home?
He squinted.
It couldn’t be. Had he… actually tempted Aziraphale? Tempted him to- no, it couldn’t be. No way. He was far too tired to even kiss and he doubted very much that he looked very kissable.
Deciding that he had no clue how any of this happened and also that it was way too tiring to try and figure it out, the demon simply moved away from the holy being and coughed into his blankets.
“I going to pop out for a bit, alright?” the angel said and Crowley realized that this meant that Aziraphale would be coming back and potentially even staying. Despite his great love for the angel, he couldn’t hide the way his expression twisted with guilt. “Oh, come now. Don’t give me that look. I’m going to bring you some food!”
“Food?”
“Yes.” Aziraphale smiled. “Is there anything you’d like?”
He hadn’t eaten in… oh, Satan, it had been so long. Conjuring up things from thin air required little power but he seemed to have lost whatever powers he had in the recent weeks. Food had become an unnecessary luxury that he just couldn’t to afford. No, he would much rather spend his miracles on at least trying to mess up this holiday.
His eyes vaguely picked up on the hand that was being waved in front of his face.
“Dear? Are you alright? You zoned out there for a minute.”
“’m fine.” He hissed, pulling a blanket up to his nose.
“Don’t go anywhere, ok?”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“And don’t lock me out, I’m going to get you food.”
Don’t lock me out? The angel knew him too well.
Although the thought of getting some food into his system sounded absolutely delightful, what kind of demon would Crowley be to give into the Gluttony at a moment like this? No, he was too proud for that. He couldn’t even bear the thought of eating under the pitying gaze of his angel.
Lucky bastard that Azzy. There weren’t any demonic holidays that were as popular as Christmas but JUST YOU WAIT!
Aziraphale eyed him suspiciously and for a moment Crowley feared that the angel could read minds.
A gentle hand was placed on his forehead and although it felt nice and warm at first, he jerked away when the touch started to sting. A divine miracle would normally go completely unnoticed by him, but right now he was particularly sensitive to anything and everything holy and it bloody hurt.
He did his best to move away from it as much as possible, until Aziraphale had to reach all the way in order to touch him with his fingertips and Crowley felt the weakness in his bones grow even stronger as the angel did… something… to him.
He hissed in defence.
“I’m really sorry dear, I just… I can’t lose you when you’re in such a state. Consider it returning the favour. After all, I’m pretty sure you have some sort of tracking device on me too.”
A tracking device? Tracking miracle.
“Right… well, yes, since the beginning of time.”
Aziraphale looks stunned and Crowley pondered whether or not that was one of the things he was supposed to stay silent about. It was hard to tell, with the list being so long and all.
“You mean, since Eden?”
“Yeah. Liked you. Didn’t want to lose track of you.”
“Crowley…” the angel sounded very flustered but the demon wasn’t very sure. His vision had dissolved into colourful blobs that were slowly starting to all blur together.
He slumped down and let his eyes rest for a moment but the moment was ruined when another raged coughing fit tore through him. His eyes had eared up and he wiped them away before Aziraphale even had a chance to see… but he was gone.
Crowley blinked a few times until he realized that he had probably fallen asleep.
Probably.
He wasn’t exactly sure that he was well enough to even teleport like the angel had feared. Honestly… if he didn’t know any better, he would have believed that he was discorporating.
There was the ugly taste of death in his mouth and the dancing colours in front of his eyes indicated… no, no it couldn’t be. The holiday simply wasn’t enough to kill him, it was just taking its toll on him. He was just being dramatic. He was just drained. He was just… tired.
And so, he went back to sleep.
He woke up with a sharp pain.
His eyes focused and he was almost impressed when he noticed that Aziraphale had slapped him. Almost.
He hissed in response.
“I’m sorry dear, you just stopped breathing all of a sudden.” Worry was laced and woven thickly into his voice.
“Too tied. Don’t need to.”
“That might be true but…” and the angel tried to find the least offensive way of saying this. “It’s a tad scary when you stop breathing while looking like… this.”
Crowley glared but it didn’t have the intended effect when he was buried in blankets. Instead, it had the opposite effect of making the angel smile.
“I brought you soup!”
“Oh!”
It appeared to be take-out soup, though Crowley wasn’t sure whether Aziraphale had decided on this because a) a miracled soup might hurt him or b) Aziraphale didn’t exactly know what went into a soup thereby making it hard to create out of nothing.
Eh, who cares.
He opened the lid and flicked his tongue excitedly at the steam that spread throughout the burrow. It smelled brilliantly but attempting to drink it turned out to be a mistake.
“Hot!” Crowley hissed.
Aziraphale giggled and the soup miraculously complied to the demons wishes, becoming cooler. At the same time, the miracles holy energy made Crowley collapse.
“Oh dear!” and the angel patted the serpents face gently before going in for the kill with another slap.
“I’m awake, I’m- ow. I’m awake.”
“So sorry!”
“You better be.” Crowley grumbled before taking the soup and moving away from the angel, or as far as the tiny space allowed.
Aziraphale sighed in relief when the demon started gulping down the soup, unhinging his jaw slightly in order to freak him out just a bit. He seemed to be a bit more himself after he finished. His tongue flicked happily (taking in the angel’s lovely aroma of cocoa and well-loved books) and relaxed a bit more.
He was already looking much better than the curled-up mess he was before.
“Do you feel any better?”
“Yeah… I’m sorry for being such a bother.”
“Nonsense, I’m happy to help.”
“Of course you are.” Crowley sighed, at least trying to look annoyed.
“Tell me, dear, does this happen every year?”
“Well… no, not really. I overexerted myself, possibly out of overconfidence.”
It was a half-truth. He had, in fact, overdone it but he had a sneaking suspicion that the entire reason behind why he had ventured outside to ‘ruin Christmas’ was because he was, at the time, quite delirious.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Crowley.”
“Yes?” it wasn’t a lie. Why was he panicking??
“I have known you for thousands of years, yes?”
“Give or take.”
“And I have never once seen you after Christmas became really popular.”
“So?”
“So, was that a lie you just told me?”
His muscles were trembling under the tension. Why? Why was this happening? No, no, he could just recover. There was SOME truth to what he had said. He would just… but, ugh, if he told him anything closer to the truth, Aziraphale would NEVER leave.
He had already messed up enough as it was…
“It wasn’t.” he claimed. “You’re right though, I don’t usually go outside on this particular holiday. I stay in and just sleep it off, it’s relaxing.”
Ok, so that was an actual lie. Sleeping on Christmas was NOT relaxing. With his energy so low, nightmares would be abundant, constantly reminding him of his own fragility by terrorising him in his sleep.
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
He kept eye contact; he gave Aziraphale his famous… I would… never… lie to you… look.
“Aziraphale-“ the demon began.
“Crowley-“ the angel said, simultaneously.
“Uh…”
“Go ahead.”
“No, no, you first.”
“Oh, but I insist.”
“What kind of a gentlemen would I be if-“
“Crowley.”
“Ok, fine, yeesh. I’m sorry.” He looked away awkwardly. “I’m sorry. It’s uh… it’s kind of like this every year. But sleeping does help! Kind of. Although things have been just particularly bad this time around. Just… I’m not sure, are the holidays getting more enjoyable or is it just me?”
“Oh.” The angel blushed a deep crimson red. “That’s exactly what I wanted to ask you… you see, I have been… uh… meddling in this year’s celebrations quite a bit… regrettably.”
“…oh.”
“I might have been outside disguised as a certain famous Christmas figure… granting poor children wishes and such. Poor adults too. Just a lot of empty presents that were filled by some miracle with whatever these good people needed most.”
“Huh.” He said. “I might have done something similar today.” He didn’t say.
“And if it’s really particularly bad this year then it must be absolutely my fault! God, I’m so sorry Crowley. I didn’t know… I’m sorry but I’ll make it up to you!”
“Please don’t.” the demon whined.
“I’ll take real good care of you. Once this is all over you will WISH I would meddle with holidays more often.”
“Aziraphale nooo.”
“Really dear, you’ll be feeling better in no time!”
As the demon started panicking it became more and more obvious that Aziraphale was serious. He wasn’t going to change his mind, not when there was a good deed to be done.
For Crowley; this was a nightmare. Stuck with an angel who was absolutely high on holy energy and feeling guilty about it on top of that, taking care of HIM? In this tiny and no-longer-safe hideout?
He already liked Aziraphale too much for his own good and the mere idea of the lovely creature breaking down his boundaries unsettled him. This would undoubtably end in disaster and quite possibly a ruined friendship and it would all be his fault.
He really had no choice but to get away.
For Aziraphale; this was his one chance! He had clearly not offered the poor demon enough kindness, treating him as if he were a co-worker instead of a friend. He knew the demon loved Lust but hated intimacy. So, if they were going to be friends, and Crowley seemed to really want that, then it was undoubtably his job to get the demon used to some genuine love.
Not to mention that he was now feeling strong enough to deal with whatever nasty attitude Crowley tried to use on him… and with that it was most likely his fault that the demon had ended up in such a sickly state.
He really had no choice but to stay.
The two looked at each other, with growing fear and excitement.
This would be interesting.