Chapter Text
Crowley's life has been meaningless ever since Aziraphale left. In fact, you could barely call it life. Well, you see, he doesn't really live without Aziraphale by his side. He doesn't really exist. So, the question is, what's he supposed to do now? No one needs him, he's not welcome anywhere, neither Hell nor Heaven wants him. He knew about the last part, of course, but believed that at least one living angel, his angel, needed him like he did. Like he does.
He has this new habit now: staring at the stars, waiting for something or someone. Thinking about the past. Mostly about their first meeting because it happened there. It was beautiful, he was beautiful, even more than all the stars combined, but he didn't really notice back then because he was too happy about his creation, his indescribably beautiful universe. Who would've known that only in six thousand years thinking about "his beautiful universe" he wouldn't think about stars and planets.
Aziraphale was his everything: his sky and sun, his wind and rain, his ocean and sea. He was his heart and soul. Only thinking about him made Crowley want to jump into a bath filled with holy water, to rip his wings off. He wants to forget everything, he's tired of how much it hurts to remember, to love. It's not like that in movies, everything is so much easier there, everyone seems so happy when in love, so why is it not like that for him? Of course the only thing that comes to his mind is that he's a demon, demons don't love, especially not angels, he wasn't supposed to love in the first place. But he does, and he can't do anything about it. Well he tried, but very soon realized that he's not good enough. Or bad enough. Crowley is not enough in general.
Maybe he was too fast.
He wanted to leave Soho as soon as he saw Aziraphale getting into that elevator, and he actually did. Only for a day though, he came back right away just because he didn't know where to go. His life revolved around Aziraphale, but he's not here anymore, so Crowley has no idea what to do. But he came back to the city, to the bookshop, anyway. He lived in his car for awhile, didn't dare to come in and just couldn't force himself. It's weird without his angel.
This city feels empty without him. Well, actually, this whole planet doesn't feel right. He can't feel him anymore, only some brief notes of his presence near the bookshop. But it's not enough. Crowley used to feel Aziraphale with every fiber of his body, it was like he was absorbed by his essence. It always made him feel so... safe. He would want to say that it made him feel loved, he thought it was love, but even after all the horrible things Heaven did to them, Aziraphale still was on their side. Was it always this way? He can only make guesses now.
He looks into the bookshop's windows all the time, sees Muriel, and just hopes that they don't ruin anything. Aziraphale worked so hard to keep those books in good condition (and to just keep those books, what if they're actually selling them?). He rang the doorbell.
"Oh!", the door opened and he was met with a shocked gaze, "Mr. Crowley, I... didn't expect you here". They were nervous and surprised, Crowley felt it very well.
"Can I come in?", fake smile spread across his face.
"Um, I'm not actually sure..."
"Perfect", he made his way through the door and left bewildered Muriel behind. He stood in the middle of the shop and inspected every centimeter. He didn't want to admit it even to himself, but he knows every single book in this shop. He also knows which ones were read by Aziraphale and which weren't. Everything seems just fine so far.
"Everything's alright?" Muriel seemed to brighten up after the question.
"Oh, thank you for asking! It's actually so nice being-"
"Oh no, I'm asking about the bookshop," he abruptly interrupted them, "You taking good care of it?" The smile on their face faded, but just a little bit.
"How humans love to say - yup! I keep everything in tip-top condition!" Now it was Crowley's smile's turn to fade. Tip-top condition. Ridiculous.
"Good", he took a random book from the nearest bookshelf and sat in the chair by the window, "D'you have some wine?" Muriel shook their head. "Ngk", he miracled a bottle and a glass, held it out to the angel but they shook their head again, so he poured the red liquid. "Are you selling them?"
"What?"
"The books, " he hissed the last letter, "are you selling them?"
"Well, I've learned that this is actually the purpose of the bookshop and that the bookseller is supposed to sell them, but no", now they made a disappointed face, "I'm not sure why, but no one came in for a book. Am i doing something wrong, Mr. Crowley?" The demon was more than pleased to hear that.
"No, my little angelic friend, you're doing everything right!" He was lying, of course, "That's the way it is. And if anyone actually comes in to buy something - tell them to fuck the right off!" He took a sip of the wine.
"But... why?" Muriel was genuinely confused. Humans are so weird, they absolutely don't understand them.
"Well..." Crowley started to think about his next words, but ended up making random sounds without saying anything.
"Was Mr. Aziraphale doing the same?"
"Oh, yes. He wouldn't sell a single book for the life of him. Ironic, really," he took another sip, but bigger this time, and chuckled, "I actually thought that he cared about the books and the bookshop, but he left. Weird, eh?"
"But he left because the Metatron himself asked him to-"
"I don't wanna hear about it. Shush." The room was silent again.
"I'll- I'll be in another room. Somewhere. Not here", and they vanished as soon as the sentence was finished. Crowley didn't notice.
He already finished the bottle and started another one when he decided to look at the book that he took. "Pride and prejudice" by Jane Austen. "What a coincidence", he thought and threw the book somewhere behind him.
A month went by. Crowley still lives in his car and goes to the bookshop almost daily. He can still sense Aziraphale here, this is actually the only thing that keeps him sane and the only thing that stops him from plotting another church robbery. He and Muriel started to get along. At least they think so, Crowley just stopped being too grumpy. To be honest, Muriel isn't really afraid of him, they think he's quite nice. They would obviously never tell him this, all demons react to being told that they're nice the same. But he is very nice. And grumpy at the same time. Crowley is grice, that's what Muriel says to themselves.
"Good morning, Mr. Crowley!" the demon opened the door and quickly walked inside, "I got the wine this time. Exclusively for you, of course, angels don't drink alcohol. Actually, we don't drink anything! We also don't consume food. Because we're not supposed to." The only thing they got in return was annoyed sounds, so they immediately stopped talking and smiling.
"I'll be upstairs if you need me. But you don't, of course!-"
"No, I'd actually like some company. If you don't mind." he looked at them, waiting for a response.
"Okay," they had a confused look on their face but still stayed in the same spot without moving. Crowley rolled his eyes and collapsed on a chair, making himself comfortable.
"Uh, wine?"
"Mmhm," he shook his head and exhaled, "Sit down." Now muriel looked scared. "C'mon, I won't do anything. Demon's word"
"But demons lie all the time."
"Then i give you my word."
"But you're a demon. Are you not?"
"Just sit down already," annoyed sounds again, but it worked. Muriel uncomfortably sat down on a chair in front of Crowley. It was silent, the only sound was the clock ticking. Muriel looked down at their feet, hands on the knees. The wine remained unopen.
"Do you like this bookshop?" a very unexpected question left his mouth as he directly stared at the angel before him.
"Of course! - now they looked up, - There are so many interesting things. Books are the most interesting ones, i must say. I really got into reading! It's very fascinating. Although some of them don't make a lot of sense to me. And the, um, record player! This thing makes interesting noises that i really enjoy. But I don't quite understand how it works..."
Muriel continued to talk about all the things in the shop and Crowley just listened. Even though he knew everything they told him about, he didn't interrupt. He even educated them on some things, told them what something was for and how it worked. He didn't touch the wine once.
Crowley feels lonely, so he decided that a new friend would be nice. No one wants to spend an eternity alone, right? It's been six months since the day and the pain still hasn't gone away. Everything is pretty the same, only now Crowley talks to Aziraphale. It's not like he sees him or knows that the angel watches or hears him. He hopes so and, honestly, would love an answer. But who is he to want Supreme Archangel's attention, right? He's probably too busy and doesn't even bother himself to clap his eyes on, well, only his ex best friend.
"You know," on one of those days Crowley sits in a park in their spot, but this time he's on the right side of the bench, "I used to speak to God like that and didn't get an asnwer either. R'you actually that busy all the time? 'Course don't bother answering."
He watches the ducks again. Watches how stupid humans feed them bread and doesn't say anything, simply because he doesn't care about it anymore.
"You should've let me speak first. I had so much to say to you and you..." He stopped to think about what to say and ended up murmuring.
"You ever wonder how Beelzebub and Gabriel are doing?" He looked up at the sky. "I do. Lucky bastards, 's all i can say. Ah, nope, one more thing: shouldn't have said anything about Alpha Centauri." And he went silent.
There are couples in the park: they're laughing and smiling, some of them are kissing or holding each other's hands. Crowley looks at them and moves his eyebrows. He also pretends he doesn't know why one of them suddenly tripped over their shoes and fell. Seeing people being happy and in love makes him angry.
His next stop is "Give me coffe or give me death". Nina is a good human in Crowley's opinion, she doesn't annoy him as much as others do. Maybe because they're quite similar. He nods at her when he gets inside.
"As usual?"
"Bingo," he popped the B and made an "ou" sound at the end. "How's Maggie?"
"You always ask me about her. Why not come to the record store and ask her? Shy?" He gave her a blank stare. "Just joking. She's alright."
"Good." Crowley thinks that he sucks at small talk. It's kinda annoying that he has to do it all the time but he's trying his best.
"And you?"
"What?" He watches her movements as she's making his espresso. Was the machine his invention?
"How are you, Crowley? You've been sad the last few months. Is it-"
"Don't." He immediately cut her off because he knows that she knows. Everybody knows that Mr. Fell isn't around anymore and that Crowley has been sad and mad ever since. He doesn't wanna talk about it with anyone. But it's Nina.
"So I'm right, eh? Is it our fault?"
"How can it be your fault?" He made an emphasis on the "your".
"Well, we told you to talk to him about your feelings and he disappeared right after that. I assume it was a bad advice." She's got a point, actually. Nina made him realize that what he was feeling was love, and then she and Maggie said that they should talk about it. And then he was alone. He can't be mad at either of them, though. He was the one who tried to get them together and invaded their lives (but he convinces himself that he was doing all of this only because of Aziraphale), so they're even.
"Nah, don't worry. It was his decision to leave, has nothing to do with you." He never talked about it with someone, not even with Muriel (mostly because they didn't dare to ask), and it felt surprisingly good and weird at the same time. He trusts her. Not entirely, of course not, but at least he can talk to her about Aziraphale. His espresso was ready.
"Cheers."
"You're welcome." She watched him drink the whole cup in a few seconds, as usual, and smiled. "Wanna take a drink with Maggie and me tonight?"
"What's the occasion?" A drink would be nice. Not too much, he says to himself, just because he's already past his alcoholic phase of the break-up.
"Nothing grand, just thought you wouldn't mind. And we'd like some company, honestly."
"I'll take your invitation into consideration." He said in a joking manner, gave her money for the coffee and saluted her on his way out. Aziraphale would say "It is very nice of you, thank you.", smile and discuss the details. He would love that. Crowley wishes he was there with him. A double date, y'know?
"Oh how you'd love that, angel, i know you would. Just gonna let you know that i will be talking about you. Probably gonna make you look like the bad guy. I can be angry, can't i?"
He sits in the Bentley without his glasses on. He doesn't take them off very often now, just in the car. He's always felt vulnerable without them. The bookshop used to be his safe place because Aziraphale was there. He loved his eyes.
"Doesn't matter. You're not here." And he was silent again.