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Pour another glass of wine
Find a way to escape
Why should it be different today?
I'll talk myself to sleep
And I'll make up the truth
Yeah, I'll tell myself that you
You're just a little tired and you don't really mean it
You still love me

 

The apartment was colder than usual, but he had left it that way on purpose. The demon that called this place home could have set the temperature to anything his heart desired. There was no thermostat, but he didn’t need one. A simple passing thought could have transformed this place into anything from a sauna to a frozen tundra. He could have brought the temperature up several degrees without ever having to move from his seat. He could have made himself instantly comfortable, instead of suffering silently in the darkness, shivering against the cool leather beneath him. He could have miracled warmer clothing for himself.

He could have done a lot of things.

Tonight, the demon wanted to feel the chill. Crowley wanted to be just outside the edge of comfort. The bottle in his hand weighed heavy and cold like the air around him, growing lighter with each burning swig he took. 

Snake-like eyes stared off at the window before him, seeing nothing. The blinds had drawn themselves the moment he’d stalked through the entrance and slammed the door shut behind him. Even if they had remained open, the demon wouldn’t have noticed anything. His mind was too far gone at this point. Lost in the memories of earlier that day.

Go off together? Wha- listen to yourself. Friends? We’re not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don’t even like you.

Even if I did know where the Antichrist was, I wouldn’t tell you. We’re on opposite sides!

There is no our side, Crowley! Not anymore. 

It’s over.

Crowley downed the rest of the bottle in a single gulp and reached for another as he willed it into existence. At this point, he didn’t quite care what type of wine it was, so long as it went down easily and kept him deliriously drunk. His inebriation was supposed to keep the demon from feeling any pain. It was supposed to be keeping him from thinking too hard and feeling too much for a certain angel, but it wasn’t working. Crowley’s mind fell to thoughts of Aziraphale all the time. Why did he think his actions here tonight would be any different?

Aziraphale. Just the thought of his angel’s name brought tears to Crowley’s eyes. Against his will, the demon’s lungs gasped for breath as the muscles in his throat clenched shut violently. 

It’s a big universe. Even if this all ends up in a pile of burning goo, we can go off together.

It was the end times. The day before the final battle between Heaven and Hell and here he was alone in his flat, drinking himself to death - or at least discorporation. Crowley was alone and it was all the angel’s fault.

He didn’t know why, but the demon had expected things to be different this time. The world was ending, for Satan’s sake! Surely after six- thousand years of knowing each other and being faced with the end of everything he loved, Aziraphale would have seen that they were on their own side. Heaven and Hell didn’t care about them. They only had each other. They had always only had each other. 

No, of course not. Even on the penultimate day of their existence, things were as they always had been. Why would anything possibly be different?

He hadn’t meant those things he’d said. Crowley tried to convince himself over and over again. Aziraphale hadn’t meant it. They were friends and the angel did like him. He had to, didn’t he? They’d been each other’s sole constant in an ever changing world for millennia. That had to mean something to the angel. It had to.

It meant something to Crowley. Absolutely everything.

 

I would say anything
To get you to notice me, notice me
I would say anything
To get you to notice me, notice me

 

What more did he have to do? What else could he say to get through to the angel? Crowley had given Aziraphale everything. He’d performed countless miracles, lied to his superiors. He’d walked on consecrated ground for the angel, and still, it hadn’t mattered. Aziraphale had once again chosen Heaven over him. He’d abandoned Crowley, left him to spend the remaining hours of his immortal existence wallowing in misery, surrounded by nothing apart from the chilling air and dozens of trembling plants.

It hurt . The echoes of Aziraphale’s words still lingered in his mind and they dug knives into the demon’s heart. He shouldn’t have one. By all accounts, Crowley should have an empty space in his chest where his heart had once been. Maybe at one time, the cavern had been there, but no longer. The demon knew he had a heart because it was currently being ripped out of his chest and thrown to the floor to be stomped all over by an angel that he adored and that saw him only as the enemy.

 

Are you trying to punish me
For your many mistakes
A past that you wish you could change
Tell me that I'm wrong
All the things that you've said
You never meant and now
Everything is better and I don't have to worry
Anymore

 

There is no our side, Crowley! Not anymore. It’s over!

The words rang clearly in his head, rattling around in the space between his ears. A hot wave of tears poured out over his eyelids and Crowley was powerless to stop them. A single sob echoed in the space around him as the demon threw the wine bottle across the room. Glass shattered as the object struck the wall, red liquid pooling on the floor below like blood. He didn’t care. A quick miracle could have cleaned it up, but he made no move to do anything except to let the tears continue to fall, running down his angular cheeks like waterfalls.

Why was Aziraphale doing this? Was this some sort of punishment? Revenge for all the things Crowley had made him do over the centuries. The Arrangement had been Crowley’s idea, after all, but Aziraphale had agreed to it. Did he blame Crowley for all of this? Yes, the demon had been the one to deliver the Antichrist, but it hadn’t been his fault. What else was he supposed to do? It wasn’t as if he was going to kill the child.

We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don’t even like you.

Did Aziraphale really hate him that much? He wouldn’t, he couldn’t . Angels were supposed to love all of creation, weren’t they? Surely a tiny bit of that love extended to him, even if he was just a demon. He had been an angel once. Surely, that counted for something. Crowley would take even the smallest sliver of his angel’s love if it was given to him. He would cherish it for all of eternity.

The demon released a heavy sigh, wiping the tears from his eyes, broken bottle forgotten on the floor. He supposed, whatever the case was, Aziraphale wasn’t his angel anymore. 

Oh, how he wished he were wrong. How he wished Aziraphale would knock on his door and tell him that everything was alright. He’d simply said those things to throw the head offices off their backs. The angel hadn’t meant a single word. Of course they were friends. Of course he cared for Crowley. Of course they could run off together. No one would care, once the war was over. They would finally be left alone. Everything would be better then. Off in the stars, they wouldn’t have to worry about always watching their backs - of being found out. Way out there, they would be free to just be.

 

I would say anything
To get you to notice me, notice me
I would say anything
To get you to notice me, notice me
'Cause all I really wanna do is make you happy
Can't you see

 

Why couldn’t they just be happy? Why couldn’t they just be friends? Why couldn’t Heaven and Hell go back to where they belonged and leave them be ? All Crowley wanted in the world was to see the angel’s smile each and every day. Was that too much to ask?

Yes, he was a demon, and yes, of course he did bad things, but had any of them really been that bad? Did he truly deserve this aching in his chest, this overwhelming, suffocating loneliness? What he wouldn’t give to have Aziraphale here at his side, smiling up at him with those brilliant blue eyes. They had been here at the beginning of all things, seen humanity as it learned and it grew. They had done it all together . How was it anything but utterly and completely wrong that they weren’t here together, now, to see it all come to an end?

 

I would say anything
If you to notice me, notice me
I would say anything
To get you to notice me, notice me

 

What more could he say? What more could Crowley do? He could apologize, try to convince the angel to leave Earth once more. What was the point in staying any longer? They both knew they were shit at their jobs. Once the war began, they were toast. Neither one of them were fighters - neither one of them wanted to fight. If they remained here, the war would be the end of them. Forever. No more discorporations. No more paperwork. No more fresh starts. This would be the final chapter. 

He had to get them to leave. He had to get the angel to understand that staying here among the doomed humans was suicide. Crowley would say just about anything to convince Aziraphale to leave it all behind - to come with him to the stars.

Only then, would they be safe. Only then, would they finally be free. 

He owed it to himself - to the both of them to try.

Just one more time.

 

I would say
I'll do anything
To get you to notice me, notice me
I would say anything
Notice me