All The Lies - 3/5
Oct. 12th, 2019 09:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
silver_sunPart 3
Crying hadn't particularly helped. Mainly, Aziraphale decided with a weariness that was more than physical, because it hadn't actually made anything any better. Even Crowley's arms holding him tight, were there own special kind of torture, a painful reminder of all he was going to lose.
Yet he hadn't got the energy to move from them or the desire to try. Instead he closed his eyes, head tucked between Crowley's neck and shoulder. Exhausted and sore, he wondered how long he could stay there, huddled away from reality. However long it was, he doubted that it would ever be long enough.
"You asleep?"
"No." It came out as a wet little croak that Aziraphale absolutely hated. His throat hurt, his nose was all blocked and snuffly and he suspected his eyes were every bit as red and puffy as they felt. It was hardly an angelic look, being all soggy and sad, but being concerned with how you looked was vanity, and that wasn't very angelic either. He sniffed loudly, knowing how disparaging Gabriel would be if he could see him right now.
"You want to try?"
He thought for a moment, wondering he might escape to some dreamless oblivion for a while. Yet he held no hope of it. Sleep had never come easily to him. All the things he managed to keep at bay while awake had a tendency to come out to play in a warped technicolor parody of life if he tried. "I can't," he said hoarsely, the words muffled against the tear-damp fabric of Crowley's shirt. "I'm sorry."
He felt Crowley tense at the words, his arms like tightly strung wires around him.
Turning his cheek to rest it on top of the untidy white curls, Crowley made an inarticulate gulping noise, sounding somewhat less than half in control of his own emotions. "Will you stop apologising? You've done nothing wrong."
"Sorry...I mean I'm not sorry, that I'm sorry. Sorry." Aziraphale sniffed again. "Oh bother. I'm so awful at this. I really have no idea why you even like me."
Crowley went very still for a moment, then he said quietly, "I more than like you." Releasing his embrace, he carefully ran his fingers through Aziraphale's hair, lifting his head, so their eyes met. "Angel, you're everything them up there should have been, but aren't. You're good. You're kind. Even when you try to be an irritating bastard you're never cruel. You want to help people. You like doing it. I thought it was because you were an angel, but it's not." Leaning in, he let their lips brush. "You're all those things and more, because it's just who you are."
Aziraphale's eyes went wide. "Crowley." It was a sigh, a prayer.
"You're my best friend, my only friend." Crowley's eyes were wet. "You make me FEEL. Demons shouldn't...can't do that. But you..You...right from that first time on the wall when you looked at me, you listened, you cared." He swallowed hard. "You didn't have to. You didn't have to do any of the things you done for me, but you did and I love you for it." Lips just touching, he whispered, fear and awe in his voice, "I...I love you," before kissing him with all the passion he struggled to put into mere words.
It was probably a very good thing that they were sitting down, Aziraphale thought giddily, as he felt weak at the knees and little faint from the rush of emotions. It definitely wasn't a bad feeling, just completely and utterly overwhelming.
He felt breathless as Crowley slowly pulled back, foreheads touching, a hand still curled around the back of his neck. He should probably say something. He tell him that he loved him dearly too, that he'd fell in love with him years ago, but that he'd been too afraid to admit it, to scared of what would happen to them should there sides ever find out. They've wasted so much time. Not wasted, he corrected himself, no time he'd spent with Crowley was ever wasted. They'd all been moments to cherish in their own way. What was wasted was all the times that they could have spent together but hadn't.
"We should go," Crowley said suddenly, although he made no move to leave.
"Go? Go where?"
"To my place. Whatever happened earlier, whatever Gabriel said, we'll figure something out, but not here." He looked around the shop, eyes darting from unlit candles to empty fireplace, fire that wasn't there somehow reflected in his eyes. "Somewhere safe."
"My shop is safe," Aziraphale said defensively. It was his, it had been his home for the best part of two centuries. It was comfortable.
Crowley sighed. "I don't suppose you can humour me on this, you know, just this once." A please that would never be spoke aloud clung to the end of sentence.
"I suppose a change of scene might help me think," Aziraphale said doubtfully. Although not worrying that Gabriel would walk back in any second would be good. Did Gabriel know where Crowley lived? Would he dare to walk into a demon's home? He hoped not.
------------------------------
The drive to Crowley's flat was uneventful, the sleeping city sliding past the windows of the Bentley as it ignored all speed limits and traffic signs.
Was it the quiet before the storm? Aziraphale wondered once he was sitting on the blandly modern sofa. Or was it a brief pause, a genuine moment of respite from everything. Crowley, certainly appeared to be treating it as such. A few glares at his plants, a click of his fingers to set the lighting to something far more soft and soothing that the overhead strip lighting should have ever been able to manage, followed by brief detour to the kitchen to miracle them up a drink.
Aziraphale preferred, if he was honest, when warm drinks where made the human way. They seemed to taste more real somehow. It was a silly sentiment, but he'd never quite been able to shake it.
"You don't have to tell me everything that Gabriel said, but if he's going to come for you, for us. I want to know." Leaving his coffee on his desk, Crowley sat down next to him. "We're our own side, remember. You and me. So if we're going to have to fight you tell me." He gave him a smile that was somewhere between encouraging and panicked. "I can't think of a plan otherwise."
"No, no fighting." Aziraphale felt cold, chilled to the bone. The warm mug in his hands did nothing to relieve it. "Well not unless I don't stop."
The smile vanished. "Stop? Stop what?"
"Everything." He put the mug down untouched, the sick twist of nerves making him feel queasy. "You see, the thing is, and I didn't realise it, but I've been tempting the other Angels with how I live, putting them in them peril. So...um...I...oh dear...I have to give up all this." He gestured helplessly, overcome with the hopelessness of it all. "All of everything really. Even you. I have to be a good Angel from now on. Well that or I need to Fall, then they'll be too afraid to copy me."
Crowley was silent, tense, despite the naked fears and emotions that played out in his eyes and face. Finally he asked, "So did he give you any proof?"
"Proof?" Aziraphale wondered if he'd heard right. "Proof of what?"
"Of what he'd said, of any of it."
"It's the word of an Archangel," Aziraphale, unable to stop the feeling of disloyalty to Heaven at the thought of questioning the word of such an exulted being's words. "He wouldn't..."
"Lie to you?" Crowley's eyes seemed to glow with barely suppressed anger. "Wouldn't twist the truth? Wouldn't outright lie to you if he knew it would hurt you? Oh he would. You know he would. Angel, he wanted you dead. He wanted to watch you die."
"But..."
"But what?"
"I can't take the risk," Aziraphale replied, breath catching in his throat. "I can't...oh Crowley, I can't. What if they Fall because of me? They aren't all like Gabriel, if they were they wouldn't be tempted. What if I cause another rebellion, another war. I can't... I can't..." Images of the war in heaven started to fill his senses once more. Fire. Blood. Weeping. Dying. "I can't lose you." He felt like he was choking, but he pressed on. "I can't...I can't let them Fall either. So I have to Fall. I have to. It's the only-"
"Stop." Crowley's voice was raw, his pain a living thing, etched in his eyes and face. "Don't say that, don't."
"Gabriel said it would be easy," Aziraphale continued. He had to say it, to tell the truth, before he lost his nerve, lied and made an ever bigger mess of things. "That all I needed to do was be with you, to give in to my carnal thoughts, desires. To...to let you desecrate me."
"To what?" He looked baffled for a moment before answering his own question. "You mean have sex, don't you?"
Aziraphale flushed. "You don't have to be crude about it."
"Hardly crude, Angel. Look the point is no one ever Fell because they made love. No one. Never. You-" Crowley stopped. Getting up from the sofa he turned away, a hand over his eyes. "Don't tell me that's why you kissed me."
"It wasn't, of course it wasn't." It wasn't even slightly convincing.
Crowley's shoulders slumped, he stumbled a few steps towards the wall, leaning weakly against it. "You bastard. You really thought you'd Fall if you had sex with me and you were going to do it anyway. You were going to use me. You absolute utter, utter bastard."
Aziraphale felt sick. What he'd been going to do was so, so very wrong. It was disgusting. Despicable. Crowley shouldn't forgive him, not ever. He'd ruined everything they could have had. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'll go. I'll find another way."
"No!" Crowley turned back to him, bewildered, hurt, terrified. "Don't you dare." He took half a step towards towards him."Angel, Aziraphale. Please."
Anger, Aziraphale thought, he could have understood, could have deal with. He'd have been still be able to walk away from that. But not this, not Crowley looking at him wide-eyed with fear, not the way he was trembling and definitely not the silent trickle of tears sliding down his cheeks.
He'd tried to use him, he'd betrayed his trust, he'd truly upset him. He'd been a fool. Worse, he been a terrible friend. Honestly it was quiet possibly the worse thing he'd ever chosen to do. Admittedly there had been things Heaven had demanded of him, terrible, awful, soul destroying things which had been much, much worse. But those that been orders, things that he'd been forced to obey. This he'd chosen to do all by himself.
Disgusted with himself and unable to cope with the sight of Crowley's tears for a moment longer, Aziraphale did the only thing he could think of. He hugged him.
Crowley responded with a surprised gasp, then wrapped his arms tightly about the angel. Turning his face away, he pressed it against the offered, comforting shoulder. He made a wet, breathy sound, followed by a huff of annoyance. "I'm still angry with you."
"I know, my dear, and it's quite alright." Cautiously, Aziraphale rubbed Crowley's back, hoping that it might offer a little comfort. "I tried to do a terrible thing and I'm so sorry. I was scared, but that's really no excuse, is it? I doubt that it helps at all, but I am very, very cross at myself. I really should have just told you."
Talking or rather the lack of it was, Aziraphale realised, at the heart of their problems. They hadn't really talked about apocalypse that wasn't, the giddy relief of survival seeming, until now at least, to be enough to see them through. They'd carefully not talked about what had happened to them in the desperate hours before it was averted, barely said a word about the things that happened Heaven and Hell, nor voiced a single word about the fear of losing everything, of losing each other. The fear, the insecurities and nagging feeling that they were living on borrowed time hadn't diminished no matter how far he'd pushed it down inside. It was awful to realise that Crowley had almost certainly been suffering just the same.
The fact was they needed to talk. A proper long, open and honestly conversation. It would probably be an awful and miserable experience, but somewhere deep inside he knew that they needed to do it. To leave it would be to let it fester, poisoning their future together.
"Just promise me you won't try," Crowley ground out, hands gripping tightly into his coat, fingers twisting into the worn fabric. "Promise me you won't Fall."
"I promise." He patted Crowley's back, ignoring the ache in his own shoulders. It didn't matter that his coat pulled tight across bruises or that they still throbbed unmercifully, he hold himself, for now all that mattered was Crowley. "I should have told you, been honest. I should have trusted you. You deserve so much better from me. I'm sorry, my dear, I'm so, so sorry."
"'s okay," Crowley said, voice rough, as he clung to him. "I forgive you."
It was forgiveness that Aziraphale was sure that he didn't deserve, but he took it all the same. Pressing a kiss in the soft, red hair, an awed, "thank you," on his lips, he resolved to be worthy of it. He owed Crowley that and so much more, even if it took him the rest of time to do it.
Part 4 -
TBC
This part totally got away from me, hence the delay, I had been meaning to post this yesterday. Technically this is only half of what the original part 3 was before I decided to do what I thought would be a quick edit to resolve a couple of things.
So as not to delay posting any further I've split the part in half, which is why the chapter count has increased to 4. It should all be resolved in part 4 which will hopefully be ready for posting about mid-week.
Crying hadn't particularly helped. Mainly, Aziraphale decided with a weariness that was more than physical, because it hadn't actually made anything any better. Even Crowley's arms holding him tight, were there own special kind of torture, a painful reminder of all he was going to lose.
Yet he hadn't got the energy to move from them or the desire to try. Instead he closed his eyes, head tucked between Crowley's neck and shoulder. Exhausted and sore, he wondered how long he could stay there, huddled away from reality. However long it was, he doubted that it would ever be long enough.
"You asleep?"
"No." It came out as a wet little croak that Aziraphale absolutely hated. His throat hurt, his nose was all blocked and snuffly and he suspected his eyes were every bit as red and puffy as they felt. It was hardly an angelic look, being all soggy and sad, but being concerned with how you looked was vanity, and that wasn't very angelic either. He sniffed loudly, knowing how disparaging Gabriel would be if he could see him right now.
"You want to try?"
He thought for a moment, wondering he might escape to some dreamless oblivion for a while. Yet he held no hope of it. Sleep had never come easily to him. All the things he managed to keep at bay while awake had a tendency to come out to play in a warped technicolor parody of life if he tried. "I can't," he said hoarsely, the words muffled against the tear-damp fabric of Crowley's shirt. "I'm sorry."
He felt Crowley tense at the words, his arms like tightly strung wires around him.
Turning his cheek to rest it on top of the untidy white curls, Crowley made an inarticulate gulping noise, sounding somewhat less than half in control of his own emotions. "Will you stop apologising? You've done nothing wrong."
"Sorry...I mean I'm not sorry, that I'm sorry. Sorry." Aziraphale sniffed again. "Oh bother. I'm so awful at this. I really have no idea why you even like me."
Crowley went very still for a moment, then he said quietly, "I more than like you." Releasing his embrace, he carefully ran his fingers through Aziraphale's hair, lifting his head, so their eyes met. "Angel, you're everything them up there should have been, but aren't. You're good. You're kind. Even when you try to be an irritating bastard you're never cruel. You want to help people. You like doing it. I thought it was because you were an angel, but it's not." Leaning in, he let their lips brush. "You're all those things and more, because it's just who you are."
Aziraphale's eyes went wide. "Crowley." It was a sigh, a prayer.
"You're my best friend, my only friend." Crowley's eyes were wet. "You make me FEEL. Demons shouldn't...can't do that. But you..You...right from that first time on the wall when you looked at me, you listened, you cared." He swallowed hard. "You didn't have to. You didn't have to do any of the things you done for me, but you did and I love you for it." Lips just touching, he whispered, fear and awe in his voice, "I...I love you," before kissing him with all the passion he struggled to put into mere words.
It was probably a very good thing that they were sitting down, Aziraphale thought giddily, as he felt weak at the knees and little faint from the rush of emotions. It definitely wasn't a bad feeling, just completely and utterly overwhelming.
He felt breathless as Crowley slowly pulled back, foreheads touching, a hand still curled around the back of his neck. He should probably say something. He tell him that he loved him dearly too, that he'd fell in love with him years ago, but that he'd been too afraid to admit it, to scared of what would happen to them should there sides ever find out. They've wasted so much time. Not wasted, he corrected himself, no time he'd spent with Crowley was ever wasted. They'd all been moments to cherish in their own way. What was wasted was all the times that they could have spent together but hadn't.
"We should go," Crowley said suddenly, although he made no move to leave.
"Go? Go where?"
"To my place. Whatever happened earlier, whatever Gabriel said, we'll figure something out, but not here." He looked around the shop, eyes darting from unlit candles to empty fireplace, fire that wasn't there somehow reflected in his eyes. "Somewhere safe."
"My shop is safe," Aziraphale said defensively. It was his, it had been his home for the best part of two centuries. It was comfortable.
Crowley sighed. "I don't suppose you can humour me on this, you know, just this once." A please that would never be spoke aloud clung to the end of sentence.
"I suppose a change of scene might help me think," Aziraphale said doubtfully. Although not worrying that Gabriel would walk back in any second would be good. Did Gabriel know where Crowley lived? Would he dare to walk into a demon's home? He hoped not.
------------------------------
The drive to Crowley's flat was uneventful, the sleeping city sliding past the windows of the Bentley as it ignored all speed limits and traffic signs.
Was it the quiet before the storm? Aziraphale wondered once he was sitting on the blandly modern sofa. Or was it a brief pause, a genuine moment of respite from everything. Crowley, certainly appeared to be treating it as such. A few glares at his plants, a click of his fingers to set the lighting to something far more soft and soothing that the overhead strip lighting should have ever been able to manage, followed by brief detour to the kitchen to miracle them up a drink.
Aziraphale preferred, if he was honest, when warm drinks where made the human way. They seemed to taste more real somehow. It was a silly sentiment, but he'd never quite been able to shake it.
"You don't have to tell me everything that Gabriel said, but if he's going to come for you, for us. I want to know." Leaving his coffee on his desk, Crowley sat down next to him. "We're our own side, remember. You and me. So if we're going to have to fight you tell me." He gave him a smile that was somewhere between encouraging and panicked. "I can't think of a plan otherwise."
"No, no fighting." Aziraphale felt cold, chilled to the bone. The warm mug in his hands did nothing to relieve it. "Well not unless I don't stop."
The smile vanished. "Stop? Stop what?"
"Everything." He put the mug down untouched, the sick twist of nerves making him feel queasy. "You see, the thing is, and I didn't realise it, but I've been tempting the other Angels with how I live, putting them in them peril. So...um...I...oh dear...I have to give up all this." He gestured helplessly, overcome with the hopelessness of it all. "All of everything really. Even you. I have to be a good Angel from now on. Well that or I need to Fall, then they'll be too afraid to copy me."
Crowley was silent, tense, despite the naked fears and emotions that played out in his eyes and face. Finally he asked, "So did he give you any proof?"
"Proof?" Aziraphale wondered if he'd heard right. "Proof of what?"
"Of what he'd said, of any of it."
"It's the word of an Archangel," Aziraphale, unable to stop the feeling of disloyalty to Heaven at the thought of questioning the word of such an exulted being's words. "He wouldn't..."
"Lie to you?" Crowley's eyes seemed to glow with barely suppressed anger. "Wouldn't twist the truth? Wouldn't outright lie to you if he knew it would hurt you? Oh he would. You know he would. Angel, he wanted you dead. He wanted to watch you die."
"But..."
"But what?"
"I can't take the risk," Aziraphale replied, breath catching in his throat. "I can't...oh Crowley, I can't. What if they Fall because of me? They aren't all like Gabriel, if they were they wouldn't be tempted. What if I cause another rebellion, another war. I can't... I can't..." Images of the war in heaven started to fill his senses once more. Fire. Blood. Weeping. Dying. "I can't lose you." He felt like he was choking, but he pressed on. "I can't...I can't let them Fall either. So I have to Fall. I have to. It's the only-"
"Stop." Crowley's voice was raw, his pain a living thing, etched in his eyes and face. "Don't say that, don't."
"Gabriel said it would be easy," Aziraphale continued. He had to say it, to tell the truth, before he lost his nerve, lied and made an ever bigger mess of things. "That all I needed to do was be with you, to give in to my carnal thoughts, desires. To...to let you desecrate me."
"To what?" He looked baffled for a moment before answering his own question. "You mean have sex, don't you?"
Aziraphale flushed. "You don't have to be crude about it."
"Hardly crude, Angel. Look the point is no one ever Fell because they made love. No one. Never. You-" Crowley stopped. Getting up from the sofa he turned away, a hand over his eyes. "Don't tell me that's why you kissed me."
"It wasn't, of course it wasn't." It wasn't even slightly convincing.
Crowley's shoulders slumped, he stumbled a few steps towards the wall, leaning weakly against it. "You bastard. You really thought you'd Fall if you had sex with me and you were going to do it anyway. You were going to use me. You absolute utter, utter bastard."
Aziraphale felt sick. What he'd been going to do was so, so very wrong. It was disgusting. Despicable. Crowley shouldn't forgive him, not ever. He'd ruined everything they could have had. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I'll go. I'll find another way."
"No!" Crowley turned back to him, bewildered, hurt, terrified. "Don't you dare." He took half a step towards towards him."Angel, Aziraphale. Please."
Anger, Aziraphale thought, he could have understood, could have deal with. He'd have been still be able to walk away from that. But not this, not Crowley looking at him wide-eyed with fear, not the way he was trembling and definitely not the silent trickle of tears sliding down his cheeks.
He'd tried to use him, he'd betrayed his trust, he'd truly upset him. He'd been a fool. Worse, he been a terrible friend. Honestly it was quiet possibly the worse thing he'd ever chosen to do. Admittedly there had been things Heaven had demanded of him, terrible, awful, soul destroying things which had been much, much worse. But those that been orders, things that he'd been forced to obey. This he'd chosen to do all by himself.
Disgusted with himself and unable to cope with the sight of Crowley's tears for a moment longer, Aziraphale did the only thing he could think of. He hugged him.
Crowley responded with a surprised gasp, then wrapped his arms tightly about the angel. Turning his face away, he pressed it against the offered, comforting shoulder. He made a wet, breathy sound, followed by a huff of annoyance. "I'm still angry with you."
"I know, my dear, and it's quite alright." Cautiously, Aziraphale rubbed Crowley's back, hoping that it might offer a little comfort. "I tried to do a terrible thing and I'm so sorry. I was scared, but that's really no excuse, is it? I doubt that it helps at all, but I am very, very cross at myself. I really should have just told you."
Talking or rather the lack of it was, Aziraphale realised, at the heart of their problems. They hadn't really talked about apocalypse that wasn't, the giddy relief of survival seeming, until now at least, to be enough to see them through. They'd carefully not talked about what had happened to them in the desperate hours before it was averted, barely said a word about the things that happened Heaven and Hell, nor voiced a single word about the fear of losing everything, of losing each other. The fear, the insecurities and nagging feeling that they were living on borrowed time hadn't diminished no matter how far he'd pushed it down inside. It was awful to realise that Crowley had almost certainly been suffering just the same.
The fact was they needed to talk. A proper long, open and honestly conversation. It would probably be an awful and miserable experience, but somewhere deep inside he knew that they needed to do it. To leave it would be to let it fester, poisoning their future together.
"Just promise me you won't try," Crowley ground out, hands gripping tightly into his coat, fingers twisting into the worn fabric. "Promise me you won't Fall."
"I promise." He patted Crowley's back, ignoring the ache in his own shoulders. It didn't matter that his coat pulled tight across bruises or that they still throbbed unmercifully, he hold himself, for now all that mattered was Crowley. "I should have told you, been honest. I should have trusted you. You deserve so much better from me. I'm sorry, my dear, I'm so, so sorry."
"'s okay," Crowley said, voice rough, as he clung to him. "I forgive you."
It was forgiveness that Aziraphale was sure that he didn't deserve, but he took it all the same. Pressing a kiss in the soft, red hair, an awed, "thank you," on his lips, he resolved to be worthy of it. He owed Crowley that and so much more, even if it took him the rest of time to do it.
Part 4 -
TBC
This part totally got away from me, hence the delay, I had been meaning to post this yesterday. Technically this is only half of what the original part 3 was before I decided to do what I thought would be a quick edit to resolve a couple of things.
So as not to delay posting any further I've split the part in half, which is why the chapter count has increased to 4. It should all be resolved in part 4 which will hopefully be ready for posting about mid-week.