Angel Of Death - Crowley X Aziraphale (Finished)

3 - Goodbye

"Goodbye!?" Crowley exclaimed. "What the hell do you mean goodbye?"

"Well now that we've saved the world and we are no longer tied to heaven and hell, it time for things to change. Besides, without our sides, there's no need for the arrangement anymore, and I don't have a side to protect me anymore, so I must go and find protection myself. I just thought it might be worth having a final drink for old times sake." Crowley's rage was so close to erruppting that he thought his fiery anger would grasp out and burn the bloody bookshop to a crisp for the second time in it's lifetime.

"What do you mean you don't have a side!? You'll have our side! Like you always have. And I'll protect you! From anything angel!"

"No Crowley I won't. You and I, We don't have a side and we never will. But you already know this. I've told you before. And you are one of the very creatures I need protection from." The angel hated himself for saying these words that would torment the demon. But he had to be sure that Crowley would hate him enough to never go looking for him. Aziraphale winced as little needles were stabbing his eyes as punishment for holding back his tears. It was time for Aziraphale to push it over the line. Before he spoke, he silently prayed that the demon would one day recover from the awful words the angel spoke.

"I may have used you demon, but that is all you are to me. A demon. A foul fiend. And I could never be on the same side as such an unholy creature." Crowley's mouth was wide. His eyes displaying a pain the angel had never seen in them. The demon wanted desperately to fight back, but he just couldn't. No matter what the angel thought of him. Aziraphale meant everything to him. And if he wanted to be free of demons, then Crowley would fulfill that wish for him. But silently he prayed that somewhere in the future, his angel would come back to him. Crowley met Aziraphale's eyes. He looked broken and defeated, and so too did the angel.

"Very well an... Aziraphale. Have a nice life." With that, the demon strutted out of the store. The tears finally let go of the angel's eyes.

"I'm so sorry Crowley. Please forgive me." The angel sobbed, hugging the bottle of wine tightly as he fell to the ground, unable to get the look of heartbreak on Crowley's face out of his mind. It was an image that would chip away at his soul upon every thought. Aziraphale wondered if it was possible to survive a pain so bad. But even if the answer was no, he was going to anyway... For Crowley.

"Goodbye..."came the whisper, and At the painful buzzword, death reappeared before the broken down angel. Hesitation covered the being's features but death knew the balance more than anyone.

"It is time Aziraphale." As death touched the Angel's shoulder, an exceptionally excruciating pain entered into the Angel's body. A pain that the angel knew he deserved.

After tossing and turning all night, the following morning Crowley decided to return to the bookshop. No matter how hurt the demon was by the Angel's words, something about the night wasn't adding up. Why would Aziraphale call him there if he just planned on leaving? Why was Aziraphale so jittery? And although he hadn't processed it at the time due to his own hurt, he knew he had seen the angel holding back tears. Something was wrong. If it was true, his angel wanted him gone, he'd go, but for now, he had to make sure the angel was alright. But as he approached the bookshop, he was met by a large 'for sale' sign, covering the doors. Panic engulfed the demon as he miracled himself inside. The shop was empty. No books, no used coffee mugs, no stupid landline phones that were so not of this era. Nothing. The bookshop was stripped bare. The demon's chest contracted. If those were the last words the two ever spoke to each other, he'd never forgive himself. He should've known. He knew something wasn't right, but instead of helping his angel, he left in hurt and anger, only focusing on himself. The drops of tainted water fell past the demon's cheeks. He had failed his angel. When things mattered the most, he'd failed him. And for that, he'd never forgive himself.

Days he'd tried searching for the Angel's energy. He'd searched every country he could think of, trying to find his angel. All those places they had been to together. All those places Aziraphale talked about wanting to drag the demon. Crowley thought about every time his angel had begged him to go somewhere with him, because he didn't want to go alone. Crowley would just whine and say he was busy or something. He hated going too far away from his home. But now, he'd give anything, anything at all, to be on one of the angel's crazy adventures with him. Crowley slumped on a worn wooden chair in the middle of the empty bookshop. The warmth and homeliness of the property that Crowley loved was gone, following after his angel he presumed.

"You know you really are a bastard!" The drunk demon slurred loudly. "You left me! You tried to push me away and leave me here alone!" The demon threw the bottle of orange liquid into the wall. Trying to stand up, the demon clumsily fell over, knocking himself unconscious.

Meanwhile the being in the corner of the room, hidden darkly within the shadows, sighed.

"Sorry... This one's my fault."