Work Text:
Bolting upright, sharp nails clutching the bed sheets and tethering him to the physical plane, Crowley awoke to the sound of his own asphyxiation.
He heaved, struggling to catch his breath, heartbeat racing in his eardrums. Sweat fell from his nose, rolling down each protruding rib. His hands began to cramp in their tightness, spasming with nerves, the aftershocks of fighting for physical control. His right calf started to contort, the muscle pulsing painfully, and Crowley bit down hard on his lip as he concentrated on wiggling his scaley toes.
What in the fuck.
How Aziraphale didn’t hear him, he wasn’t sure. He slept peacefully next to him, facing the wall, his unnecessary breaths making the blanket rise and fall. Crowley let his hand fall from beneath his black tank top, where he was willing his heart back into a normal rhythm. Reaching out, he gently laid his hand on his partner’s waist. Sleep, angel. No worries about me. Closing his eyes, he felt his energy seep into the sleeping form next to him, keeping him safe and warm. He focused on his breathing and felt himself coming back down to earth, to the bookshop, to their bedroom –
JUST A LITTLE HARDER, LOVE. PIERCE HIS KIDNEY.
Crowley’s eyes flew open wide, two golden orbs showing brightly in the bedroom. He stared, horror stricken, at the hand that caressed Aziraphale. It shook slightly, with the vibrations of a reality bending, resisting, contorting to the will of its owner until, with a quick blink, it became detached.
His fingers were broken. His entire hand was rigidly upright in an unnatural position for a human body. His fingers bent like branches from a tree, reaching towards his palm, reaching out towards the back of his wrist farther than fingers should ever be able to reach.
Crowley felt his bottom lip begin to quiver. He closed his eyes calmly. This is a dream. I’m not awake yet. Focus on your breathing. Aziraphale is here. Focus on his breathing. Push it away. He lifted his eyelids slowly. Don’t –
He wasn’t sure what kept him from screaming. He watched as his hand, turned completely backwards, began to scratch at his own arm. Except for one finger, turned inwards. He flipped his arm around in a panic in time to watch a long black nail slice into his wrist.
THERE WE ARE. NO WORRIES INDEED.
“No. No, no, no.” Shaking his head, he crossed the room, his bare feet slapping the floor, and nearly walked into the bathroom door. He frantically felt for the light switch even though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to see. Vision swimming, he reached blindly for the faucet as the vanity lit up in front of him. The water was freezing and he felt a shiver run the length of his spine, followed by feeling his feet firmly on the linoleum floor. Grounding himself. He splashed his face again, his palms in his eyes, each drip sliding slick down the contours of his face. He forced himself to stand as tall as possible, and breathe from his diaphragm. That’s what Aziraphale had told him: Breathe deeply, darling. That’s it, very good. Feel yourself in this room. In your own body. In the body you control.
“I am in the body I control.”
You are safe.
“I am safe.”
SAFETY IS RELATIVE.
Crowley jumped and clutched at the doorknob behind him, even as threw himself into the door. He knew he shouldn’t look, that was the last thing he should be doing, but the voice was so clear, it was nestled firmly in his ears and yet also all around him. As clear as the figure staring back at him from the mirror.
It was like looking at himself through a jagged rip in the universe. His large leathery wings spread out behind him, the veins bulging through the thin skin. Two gnarled horns protruded painfully from his head, resembling those of a ram. Dried blood ran from his hairline in trails over his eyes, creating crusty matts in his long red hair. In the center of his forehead, a jagged edge had carved a crude pentagram. But what was most disturbing was his eyes. The golden glow was replaced by a darker shade, their depth endless. His irises were blown wide and turned horizontally, resembling those of a goat. They pinned him to the spot, trapping him in his own reflection.
A lopsided smile revealed saw-like teeth. Crowley brought a shaking hand up to the corner of his mouth. He wasn’t smiling.
NO WORRIES, REMEMBER? I AM YOU AS SURELY AS YOU ARE YOU.
His reflection’s mouth didn’t move, yet the voice rang clearly. His gulp echoed in the bathroom.
“You’re not me.”
OH, BUT I’M A PART OF YOU. A PART FROM DEEP, DEEP WITHIN YOURSELF, FROM THE PLACES YOU LIKE TO PRETEND YOU’VE MOVED ON FROM.
Crowley smirked. “I’d say I’ve moved on about as much as a demon can move on.” Still, his right hand balled into a tight fist.
His reflection nodded sarcastically.
HAVE YOU NOW?
His eyebrows shot up, cracking the dried blood on his forehead.
I’M SO GLAD YOU BELIEVE THAT, MY DEAR.
Crowley felt himself wince at the use of Aziraphale’s pet name, and he immediately hated himself for it. His reflection’s eyes seemed to glow.
THAT’S IT. I KNEW YOU KNEW WHERE I COME FROM, HOW I AM GIVEN FORM. IT IS ASTONISHING EVERY TIME I PONDER HOW YOU HAVE BEEN GIVEN SO MUCH THAT YOU HAVEN’T EARNED.
“And how have I not earned it?” Crowley held onto the invisible thread connecting him to Aziraphale in the bedroom down the hall. He pushed towards him gently, willing sleep, while holding his reflection’s mocking face. “I’ve accomplished things on this plane of existence that you can’t even wrap your horns around, so best to stick your hoof in your mouth while you’re aheaAAAADD URGH FUCK!”
Crowley boxed his ears so quickly he saw stars behind his eyelids. His reflection’s laugh reverberated through his brain, bouncing off his skull like a ping-pong ball. He felt his ear drums shutter as a wave of nausea punched him in the gut.
OH, YOU ALWAYS WERE A FUNNY ONE. BUT SERIOUSLY, IF ANYONE SHOULD BE CONCERNED ABOUT THEIR HOOVES, IT’S YOU. DON’T SHOOT YOURSELF IN THE FOOT, DARLING. IT’S JUST A PITY TO WATCH.
“What…what do you-“
His reflection spread his arms wide.
YOU GIVE BIRTH TO ME, CROWLEY. CONSISTENTLY. AT LEAST THAT DISGUSTING CORPORATION IS USEFUL FOR SOMETHING. YOUR MIND MAY BE BROKEN FOR YOU, BUT IT DOES A MARVELOUS JOB OF NOURISHING ME. ALL THAT USELESS SKIN AND THOSE BRITTLE BONES. IT’S A WONDER YOU HAVEN’T BROKEN IN HALF, WHAT WITH ALL THE SINFUL FORNICATION THAT’S BEEN GOING ON AROUND HERE.
Crowley’s shocked face watched as his reflection seemed to get closer, the mirror bending inwards.
BUT YOU ENJOY THAT HEATHEN, DON’T YOU CROWLEY? A CELESTIAL BEING WHO WOULD DEFILE HIS OWN BODY WITH YOUR FILTH –
“Shut your fucking mouth.”
-YOUR LUST, THE VERY ROTTEN CORE OF YOU. HE FEEDS IT EVERY TIME HE SATISFIES HIS UNGOLDY URGES IN THE MOST UNHOLY OF WAYS.
“Nothing –“ Crowley closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he felt his ethereal tie to Aziraphale tremble, then become taught once more. “Nothing can be unholy about love.”
AWWW. IS THAT WHAT YOU TELL YOURSELF WHILE YOU ABSORB HIS WANTING TO FEED YOUR IRREDEMABLE SOUL?
I hate myself. He felt the water pooling and dropping hotly down his cheeks, even as he steeled himself against the tidal wave within him. Why the fuck am I like this. I have everything I could ever want, everything I hoped for, for thousands of years. Why can’t I just –
WHY CAN’T YOU JUST BE HAPPY, CROWLEY? CAN YOU NOT COMPLETE EVEN THAT MOST SIMPLEST OF TASKS? IS IT NOT ENOUGH FOR YOU THAT YOUR ANGEL HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO SHARE YOUR PATHETIC EXISTANCE? THAT HE HAS CORRODED HIS ESSENSE WITH YOUR ACIDIC TONGUE? THAT HE HAS REJECTED THE PURE NATURE OF HIS HEART, THE VERY BEATING SOUL AT THE CENTER OF HIS BEING, TO DEGRADE HIMSELF WITH A LOWLY, SLITHERING CREATURE SUCH AS YOURSELF? SOMEONE WHO WAS BROKEN FROM THE VERY BEGINNING, BEFORE SHE CREATED THE VERY PLANET ON WHICH YOU GORGE YOURSELF?
His reflection chuckled as Crowley gripped the sink and heaved for air, his tears falling hotly onto his skin. He faintly heard the sink rattling in the wall, as though he was under water. He felt the foundation of the bookshop shake beneath his feet. His ears pounded with a mounting pressure.
BECAUSE, CROWLEY, AS YOU KNOW –
It stopped.
Like a vacuum sucking the air from the room, it all stopped in an instant. The sink and the floor ceased to shake. Crowley stared at himself, panting, the sweat pouring from his forehead. He bent his fingers slightly and sighed with relief, feeling the thread of power still tied securely. He closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing.
You’re here. You’re safe. Aziraphale is safe. He’ll never know. That’s not what he sees when he looks at you. That’s a part of me, but it’s not me. That’s a part of me, but that’s not me.
He inhaled deeply through his nose and let out a shaky breath.
That’s a part of me…but that’s not…
He squeezed his eyes shut as his grip on the sink tightened.
That’s a part of me, but that’s not…that’s not…
A longer fingered hand placed itself gently on his shoulder, the long nails digging slightly as breath hit his skin, scalding hot.
YOU’RE UNLOVABLE.
Aziraphale cried out as he jumped from his deep sleep. He had heard screaming in his dream, but he couldn’t remember what he had been dreaming about. The dark room came into focus slowly; the moonlight gliding through the window, the clock on the nightstand blaring 3:33 in neon red numbers that swam in Aziaphale’s hazy vision. Who had been screaming in his dream?
…Wait. Someone was screaming now.
Aziraphale flew to the doorway and made his way to the light from the bathroom down the hall.
“Shut the fuck up, you piece of fucking shit –“
“Crowley?!”
“It’s not true it’s not true it’s not it’s not –“
Aziraphale stared from outside the bathroom door at Crowley crumpled on the bathroom floor, his long limbs dangled over his face, fingers gripping his hair painfully. A chocking sob burst from his mouth.
“I love him, I love him! I love him, please, no no, please, I love him –“
“Crowley.” He laid his warm hand on his partner’s shoulder. Crowley flinched and flailed his long limbs, making Aziraphale recoil.
“Azira – don’t-“
“Crowley, what’s the matter-“
“GET OUT.” His eyes were ablaze, his pupils reduced to slits. Aziraphale saw his canines begin to lengthen as his whole body shook, but he didn’t feel fear. He stared into Crowley’s eyes, calmly, and saw…raw terror. Pain. Anxiety.
“My dear –“
“JUST GET OUT –“
“I most certainly will not, do not TELL ME to get out of our own wash closet!”
This Aziraphale said with exasperation, not force. They stared into each other’s eyes for a few moments, Aziraphale’s hands laid gently on Crowley’s shoulders, Crowley’s hands half raised in defence, but from who, neither of them knew. Tentatively, Aziraphale reached out and cupped Crowley’s jaw, sliding his thumb across his face with such tenderness that all at once, his partner’s face crumbled inwards.
“Oh, my love…”
“Angel…angel, I’m s- I’m so sorry.”
“Shhh, it’s alright.”
“Angel I didn’t mean it –“
“Hush now dear.” He pulled Crowley towards his chest and ran his fingers through his hair, willing his calming energy forwards. Crowley clung to his pajama top, and snuggled safely against his partner’s chest, he sobbed. His thin shoulders shook with the force of his emotions as they came crashing out of him. Aziraphale hugged him tightly, soothing him as best he knew how, as Crowley heaved and gulped for breath.
“Dearest, oh, dearest, it’s alright –“
“It’s not alright. It’s never been alright.”
“Shh, shh.”
“None of this is alright, Aziraphale. We need to stop pretending that this is ok.”
“That what is ok?”
He choked on a breath and coughed harshly into his hand. Aziraphale loosed his grip as Crowley leaned back into the door, staring up at the ceiling, his eyelashes wet with tears. “This,” he managed softly. “Us.”
Aziraphale felt his stomach plummet, followed immediately by a surge of hot anger. He moved himself in front of Crowley and plopped down right in his lap.
“Anthony J. Crowley, now you listen to me.” Crowley closed his eyes and let his head loll back against the door, but Aziraphale took hold of his chin and gently tilted his face forwards. He sighed and gave him a small, soft smile. “Now, I may not be the sharpest tool in the shed, as they say, but I like to think of myself as knowing a thing or two. And if I don’t know something, I can just as easily find answers in an encyclopedia, or even on that internet web that you’re always on about –“
“Aziraphale.”
“But, the one thing that I don’t need a book to assure me of is this: I love you, my dear. So very, very much.”
But I don’t believe you, Crowley said in his mind, and immediately scolded himself. That’s what always brought him here, he knows that, but it’s like he can’t help the thoughts that suffocate him. You shouldn’t love me. What can I offer you that is as great as what you’ve given me?
“I know, I know,” Aziraphale continued, idly straightening out Crowley’s tank top. “Love can be such a stubborn thing. It’s so hard to realize, often not easy to admit, and it can be difficult to absorb.” He leaned forward and laid his head across Crowley’s chest, hearing his heartbeat. He breathed in his scent as Crowley wrapped his arms around him. “But my dear, all I can do is assure you of my feelings. I can’t make you believe me…you need to do that yourself. You need to love you.”
Crowley took a deep, shuttering breath. He felt like he was being pried open, naked in the most vulnerable way, even though he was with the one person he trusted the most. “I know.”
Aziraphale lifted his head and placed a gently palm on his face. His smile created a pleasant pool of heat in Crowley’s chest. “You’ve gotten so much better, my dear. I know you can’t always see it, but you have. Last time, you told me about it, and this time, you faced it head on, all on your own…and our bathroom mirror is, in as far as I can tell, still intact.”
Crowley couldn’t help his snort of laughter, and then they both were giggling, there on the bathroom floor at four in the morning, wrapped in each other’s calming embrace. Aziraphale planted a soft, chaste kiss on the side of Crowley’s mouth. He rested his forehead against his. “I am so proud of you, love.”
“I mean…thank you, angel. But, when is this going to end?”
“I don’t know when it will end, Crowley, or if it is even the kind of thing that has an end. But I do know that I will be with you for the journey. That is what we promised to one another, and that is a promise I intend to keep.”
Crowley felt a smile despite himself as true contentment washed over him. “What’s that phrase you keep repeating to me? From that book about plants on the wall?”
“The Perks of Being a Wallflower?”
“Yeah, that’s it. What was that quote again?”
“‘We accept the love we think we deserve.’” Aziraphale looked down at their clasped hands and rubbed his thumb across Crowley’s skin. His cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “I have trouble accepting your love as well, my dear. It seems we both have our own work to do.” He straightened himself and looked Crowley determinedly in the eyes. “But, we will do it. Together.”
Crowley brought Aziraphale’s hand to his lips and kissed the back of his hand, memorizing the weight of it and the softness of his fingers, as he had done countless times before. “Always, angel. Always.”