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ahyperactivehero · 5 years

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From the prompt list could you do “Please don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry.”? Thank you~!

Thank you sending in a prompt! I hope you enjoy it! :D

“Please don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry.”

Aziraphale could only stand by and watch as all of the information in the Library of Alexandria went up in flames. Scrolls of irreplaceable text were burning, priceless artifacts were being destroyed, and all records were soon going to be absolutely indecipherable.

There would never be another library like it.

He’d fallen in love with human texts long ago, so long that he almost couldn’t remember when it had started. Humans were so fascinating, could come up with the most outlandish stories or reasons for things, things that he never could have even imagined. Some of them were so far off from the truth that it was amusing to compare it to what actually happened (such as The Creation of the Universe), while others were so dead on he wondered if some of them had ever spoken to an actual angel or demon before (mainly, he wondered if Crowley had been giving up ‘trade secrets’ to humans while tempting them. He did seem to enjoy humans with great imaginations, after all).

Regardless of what the humans believed, there was a desire for knowledge and an even stronger desire to share that knowledge that he had noticed in humans, even come to admire about them. Once one of them figured something out they would inevitably write about it, share their findings, work through whatever problem it was…

But a lot of that knowledge was burning now. All because of some stupid conflict.

There were ships still burning in harbor, as well as a few homes in the surrounding area that had managed to get caught in the crossfire. People were screaming, some of them grabbing buckets of water from the harbor to try and douse the flames, while others- like Aziraphale, stood around and watched everything happening.

It was like he’d been cut off from everything; his body, his mind, even Heaven for a brief moment. He knew that he should start helping, doing something. The library was gone, but he might be able to save some of the homes or the people still in the area…

But he couldn’t move. Instead, he could only stand there and watch as it burned.

He wasn’t sure how long he had stood there, gazing deep into the red and orange as it blurred together in front of him, but he knew it must have been a while. Eventually, he registered someone coming to stand next to him.

“I’m sorry about the library, angel,” Crowley’s voice said. It was quiet and yet somehow Aziraphale had completely heard and understood him over all the chaos that was going on around them. It’s like they were in their own little bubble, just the two of them.

He turned his head, finally managing to look away from the library. Crowley was standing there, his coloring easily matching the fire with his dark black robes and his bright red hair. Those silly glasses were firmly over his eyes, doing their best to hide them from anyone looking at them.

Aziraphale stood there, unsure what to say.

“I tried…” Crowley said, his voice trailing off. His forked tongue flickered over his lips, a nervous habit that Aziraphale hadn’t seen in a while. “I tried to stop it. Or-or at least save some things.” His hands, which were clasped behind his back were fidgeting in an un-Crowley like way.

“Why?” Aziraphale asked, his eyebrows scrunched up as he looked at Crowley. When Crowley seemed confused he clarified. “I mean, why would you do that?”

Crowley had fully turned away from the fire and almost startled look came over his face. “Please don’t cry, angel, I hate seeing you cry.” He reached out with one hand, the hesitation clear in the pause he held for a brief moment, before eventually bringing it to Aziraphale’s face to wipe away the tears Aziraphale didn’t even know he had been crying.

They stood there, staring at each other. Aziraphale searched for any sign of guilt on Crowley’s face, but he couldn’t find any traces of it. Still, he had to be sure. Those glasses could hide a lot, after all.

“Did you do this?” Aziraphale asked softly.

Crowley paused before dropping his hand from Aziraphale’s face, almost like he had been scorched by the flames around them. “Did I do this?” Crowley repeated. “Are you asking if I burned down the library?” There was an icy undertone to Crowley’s words. It was unusual to hear the demon sound like that, especially when he was speaking to Aziraphale. “Why would I burn down the library?”

“Because you’re a demon,” Aziraphale said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world. “That’s what demons do.”

An awful weight seemed to settle over the both of them as the tension in the air grew. The flames nearby were still crackling, but neither one of them seemed to register them anymore. Their bubble was collapsing, turning in on themselves.

“Not this one,” Crowley said. There were things that he could have said to Aziraphale, words that he knew would hurt the angel such as pointing out that Heaven was the one who tended to cast out those who asked questions or sought out knowledge, but he knew that wouldn’t help. He could quell his own devilish habits if it meant that he might spare his angel any more pain.

Aziraphale wiped the remaining tears away with the back of his hand. The sadness in his gaze hurt Crowley, but there was nothing to be done about that right now. All they could do for now was move on and hope for the best, just hope that the next generation of humans who came after this one would be better.

“Let’s go, angel,” Crowley said, offering his hand. It wouldn’t do them any good to keep standing around out here, plus Crowley would hate to accidentally get caught by the flames if they continued to spread like they were.

Aziraphale didn’t take the hand, but he did follow along next to the demon. That would have to be enough for now.

“You could always make your own,” Crowley said. The silence between them was killing him, and he couldn’t help but wonder if Aziraphale felt the same.

“What?” he asked, his attention brought back to the demon next to him.

“A library. Or something like it, I don’t know. You could start your own, have all the scrolls and texts or whatever else you want,” Crowley said. He shot a small, mischievous grin towards Aziraphale. “I bet yours would be even better.”

Aziraphale considered this. He’d never really thought about having his own private collection before. Sure, he had more than his fair share of them already, but it was nothing like Crowley was hinting at.

It wouldn’t bring back the Library of Alexandria, but it would be a start.

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ahyperactivehero · 5 years

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5 or 7 from the newest list? Angst~~~

Ohhh what if I combined them~! I hope you enjoy!!!!

“Wake up! Please wake up.”/ “Don’t you ever do that again!”

Life could be lonely when you were one of the only operatives on Earth. Sure, other angels visited from time to time, primarily Gabriel, to check in and make sure he was still ‘fighting the Good fight’, but they didn’t mean much to Aziraphale. What did it matter if all of Heaven was down on Earth if none of them could understand why he enjoyed food or books or music that didn’t feature in The Sound of Music?

Maybe that’s why he and the demon Crowley had hit it off. The Arrangement, while originally Crowley’s idea, was certainly something that benefited Aziraphale just as much (sometimes even more so) than the demon, and had led to far too many evenings together discussing everything they had experienced on Earth so far.

He’d deny it, but he’d grown rather fond of Crowley, far fonder than he had ever intended to.

Which is why he was…uneasy when Crowley failed to show up at their scheduled meeting place. They’d both had this meeting arranged months ago, Aziraphale was sure of it, and he’d even managed to memorize the list of meeting places well enough to know for sure that he was at the right one.

He checked his pocket watch. It had already been two hours, but what was two hours to immortal beings? Two hours could pass in the blink of an eye, so it was entirely possible that Crowley hadn’t even noticed he was late yet.

Yet standing there, not knowing what had caused the demon’s delay, was enough to send a spark of worry running through him, causing the short amount of time to feel like ages. What if Hell had caught wind of their Arrangement?

He shivered as he thought of what they might do to Crowley. Sure, he was their Golden Boy when he was at the top of his game and taking credit for all of the terrible things humans were doing, but that didn’t mean they would give him any slack if they found out he’d been fraternizing with an angel.

He sighed and checked his watch again, as if that might somehow force Crowley to appear. Still, the bus stop was just as empty as it had been. A few people walked past, but none of them had the familiar red hair or strange strut that Crowley did.

Would it be too strange to go to Crowley’s flat to check on him? He knew it would be odd, but his main concern was overstepping the boundaries they had set in place for themselves. Crowley showing up at his bookshop wasn’t strange, but Aziraphale showing up unannounced at Crowley’s place? Practically unheard of.

He could always use an excuse, he supposed. If Heaven found out, he could always say that he had simply been checking to make sure that the demon wasn’t getting up to any trouble.

And if anyone from Hell was there… well, he’d just have to figure out what to do about that when he got to it.

Sighing, he resigned himself to actually catching the bus he was at the stop for and riding it over to see Crowley. It wouldn’t hurt to just check in, after all.

The door was locked and there didn’t seem to be any sound coming from the otherside.

Part of him wanted to turn around and leave right then and there. It was obvious that Crowley wasn’t home, and even if he was he probably didn’t wish to be disturbed.

‘You know he’s here,’ Aziraphale thought to himself. ‘You saw that damned car of his out front.’

He rolled his eyes at his own thoughts and gave a small sigh. A simple snap later and he was inside the flat.

It was dark inside as it was lit by nothing but TV, but that wasn’t anything new. The few times Aziraphale had been anywhere Crowley lived it was usually dark, the decor usually draining most of the light into it’s black fabrics. There were a few splashes of color here and there with plants and decorations, but Aziraphale barely registered them.

The TV was on but muted, the room seeming to flicker as the scenes changed. Faintly, Aziraphale recognized one of the little old ladies on screen as being from Crowley favorite show, but he couldn’t quite remember the name at the moment.

In fact, most of his brain power was going towards the figure limply laying on the couch.

“Crowley?” he asked. He hesitantly stepped inside the flat and shut the door. His eyes darted around, looking for any signs that anyone else might be there, but he couldn’t sense anyone.

He called out to the demon a bit louder as he approached. “Really, my dear, you must learn to use an alarm or something,” he said, his voice brighter than it had been. Here he’d been thinking that something terrible had happened, and Crowley had simply been having a nap.

Yet Crowley didn’t move. He didn’t even react as Aziraphale got closer, a sure sign that something was more than likely wrong.

“Crowley?” he said. With a snap the lights sprang on, flooding the room with far more light than should have been possible from the few lights in there.

He dropped to his knees next to the demon, his hands hovering over him. He’d seen Crowley sleep for a long time before, but this seemed different. He wasn’t in bed, he wasn’t even in his night clothes for Somebody’s sake. It was as if he had simply passed out watching TV and didn’t wake up for whatever reason.

His hand immediately went to Crowley’s neck, searching for his body’s pulse. It was there, far fainter than Aziraphale had ever felt anyone’s pulse, but at least it was there.

“Wake up, dear,” Aziraphale said, reaching for Crowley’s shoulders. His head hung back, his neck stretching at an almost odd angle as Aziraphale gently shook him. “Crowley! Wake up!”

Still, those large yellow eyes stayed shut. Aziraphale glanced around desperately, wondering if there was anything that might be able to help him, but all he noticed was the shaking plants and the TV continuing to play the next episode.

“Please wake up,” Aziraphale said. He scooted Crowley over until he could sit down and rest his head in his lap. He ran his hands through the bright red hair that was practically plastered to Crowley’s head, and couldn’t help but think about the fit he would have if he knew what his hair looked like at the moment.

With a glance up to Heaven and a quick prayer to Her, he reached out to touch Crowley’s chest and allowed his Angelic nature to search for what might be the issue.

It was harder to find things that were bothering a demon rather than an angel, as Aziraphale hadn’t had much experience in that department, but he could tell that the demon seemed drained. It was like all of his energy was gone, but his body was still here.

“Oh, dear,” Aziraphale said. He closed his eyes as he tried to find out what exactly was ailing the demon, but he didn’t seem to be able to dig much deeper than that.

There was nothing for him to do about the demon’s low energy. There didn’t seem to be anything physically wrong with the demon, so it would simply have to be a waiting game until he woke up.

Thankfully, it didn’t take too long for him to wake up.

“Azzziraphale?” Crowley asked, his voice soft and his words hissing. “What’re you doin’ here?”

Aziraphale startled, his eyes popping open and quickly retracting his hand from Crowley’s hair. “Oh!” he said. “Are you alright?”

Serpent eyes blinked up at Aziraphale in confusion before sliding closed again. “Yeah, I’m fine. What’re you doin’ here?” he asked, a bit more coherent this time.

“Well, when you failed to show up for our meeting I figured I better come and- and make sure you weren’t causing too much trouble.”

Crowley snorted. “Nope, no trouble. Just sleeping.”

Aziraphale resisted the urge to brush his limp hair back out of his face. “I couldn’t wake you up,” he said, his voice filled with concern. “And you’re so low on energy. What happened?”

Crowley waved his hand weakly, almost as if he were trying to just wave the whole incident away. “Sorry, angel. Didn’t realize that was today.” He gave a huge sigh before he tried to sit up. At that moment he seemed to realize where he was laying.

“Oh, sorry,” Aziraphale said as he helped push Crowley into a sitting position. It was just as slanted as his posture always was, but this time there was a sort of tiredness that clung to his entire being that made it obvious that it was something that was needed rather than an artistic choice today.

“You never answered what happened,” Aziraphale said. He held his hand out, like he might touch Crowley, before drawing his hand back. “You were so low on energy that I could barely sense you. I thought- or rather, it seemed like, you might not come back.”

Crowley gave another snort as he dropped his head onto the back of the couch. “Hell got wind of some of the things that I had been working on lately and thought that they weren’t “diabolical” enough,” he said, stretching his legs out. “So I’ve been running around with Hastur lately. Trying to make sure he doesn’t completely ruin my plans or eat too many people, which is basically a full time job on top of my job.” He let out a very unamused laugh. “Beelzebub said that I should consider it a privilege to work alongside the Duke of Hell, that we could really learn a lot from each other.”

Aziraphale knew from past experience that Crowley’s definition of demonic actions and Hell’s definition tended to differ greatly, especially when it came to Duke Hastur’s.

“I guess I just let myself get a little bit more drained that I had really planned to,” Crowley said. He looked down at his hands as if he might be inspecting them for something, but didn’t see it. His eyes started to close again. “I dunno. I’m just exhausted.”

Aziraphale wanted to beg him to stay awake with him, as he knew he’d be reminded of Crowley’s weak and limp form if he were to go to sleep now, but he also didn’t feel like he had any right to ask that from him.

“Is there anything I can do for you? Anything I can get you?” he asked. He felt the need to be helpful to Crowley right now.

Crowley opened one eye but otherwise didn’t move. “Nah, I don’t think there’s really anything for you to do.”

Aziraphale nodded, unsatisfied. Surely there was something he could do…

“I could make tea,” Aziraphale said. He glanced off to the side, where he was pretty sure Crowley’s kitchen was. “We could sit here and watch some more of your Silver Ladies.”

A tired smile came to Crowley’s face. “Golden Girls, angel.”

“Oh yes, right. Well, then, I’ll get started on that tea.”

A few moments later the two of them were settled in on Crowley’s couch, a blanket Aziraphale had miracled covering both of them, and their tea warming their hands. Aziraphale wasn’t sure what Crowley saw in the show exactly, but he did have to admit that it was charming and the fact that Crowley liked it made it even better.

After an episode or two Crowley began to drift off. His head came to rest near Aziraphale’s arm, and he couldn’t help but remember the fear he’d felt earlier at seeing Crowley’s still form.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again,” Aziraphale said, hoping that his voice sounded half as strong as he wanted it to.

Crowley said nothing. Instead, he snuggled down closer to Aziraphale, his face firmly buried against his arm.

Remember you guys can ask me to do any of the prompts that I’ve shared, I just need to know which ones! ^^

#@blueflutist1228 #good omens #ineffable husbands #good omens fanfic #good omens fanfiction #my fics #storm writes #storm answers

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