Chapter Text
They slam their hands down on the roof of the Bentley and turn back towards the bookshop, willing Aziraphale to come after him, begging for him to come after. But he doesn't. And he knows they won’t but still, they wait.
How did they get it all so wrong? They were supposed to be an us. Had they not been all this time? After 6000 years, Crowley finally allowed himself to believe the feelings were reciprocated, but they got it wrong somewhere. Crowley has spent their entire existence loving them, spent their entire existence waiting for the day they were no longer Crowley (demon) and Aziraphale (angel), and were simply us, them, we. They have been on their own side for so long, no heaven or hell. They both worked so hard to separate themselves from their past and create their side with each other.
Crowley would follow his Angel to the ends of the earth, but he couldn’t go back to heaven. He had fallen and there was no reversing that. That was who they were, they had Fallen and they were no longer an angel and didn’t want to be. Crowley wanted to be Crowley. They couldn’t change who they were. Their problem was in thinking who they were was enough.
The bookshop door jingles and Crowley turns allowing themself a little hope. The hope quickly disappears as they watch Aziraphale follow Metatron to the lift. He wasn’t coming back to Crowley. He was going to heaven, the place that cast them aside, and called them traitors. But still, Aziraphale chose that over Crowley.
Crowley watches the lift doors close and their eyes lock one last time. Gabriel and Beelzebub could do it, why couldn’t they? If Beelzebub was enough for Gabriel why couldn’t Crowley be enough for Aziraphale?
He waits a moment after the doors closed hoping they would reopen and his angel would come after them. But they didn’t and they wouldn’t because now he knows they were never his angel.
He gets into the Bentley and begins to drive away and leave their home behind. If they drive fast enough maybe they can get the image of his disgusted face out of their mind and the sound of “I forgive you" out of his ears and the taste of them off his lips.
How did they get it all so wrong? He was the idiot, they could never be an us. They would never be anything now.