He wouldn’t have been able to stop his hands from trembling, even if he tried to miracle them still. His knee was starting to ache from where it was pressed into the hard ground, but it only felt like sweet penance. He would kneel here for eons if he had to.
The box wasn’t perfect, though he did the best he could with the time he could hide away in his heavenly office, slowly carving, smoothing, and sanding away the harsh edges of the chestnut tree wood. He was no carpenter, but perhaps if he could show the amount of time, effort, and love he put into it… maybe it would be enough.
“I… I made you a suggestion box…” He said softly, unable to put any more volume behind his words. He was afraid that if he spoke too harshly, as he had the last time they spoke, he would ruin everything.
With his hands still shaking, he lifted the box up a bit higher in offering.
“I know… I know that it isn’t anything, really… It isn’t anything that will fix what happened… what I’ve done, but…” He took a deep breath in, ignoring the water leaking from his eyes and instead keeping his gaze fixed on the demon. “But it’s for you.”
Crowley stood there, staring down at Aziraphale with an unreadable expression on his face. Aziraphale prayed that one day he may be lucky enough to be able to see those golden eyes of his once more.
“Do you really think,” Crowley began in a voice that was just as neutral as his face. “That Heaven will give a damn about anything I’d put in that box?”
Aziraphale shook his head, but kept his eyes locked on the black glass separating their gazes. “No, but this isn’t for Heaven. It’s— It’s yours. No one else but I would be able to open it, and no entry but yours would be accepted by it.” He lifted the box up a little higher, hoping against hope. “In case you ever… Ever deigned to speak to me again.”
Crowley clenched his hands into fists at his sides before stepping forward and approaching him. Aziraphale vaguely wondered if Crowley would take it, only to throw it to the ground and smash it. He certainly knew he deserved worse.
The demon stopped short in front of him, leaned down, and took one of the little paper slips from the side of the box, along with one of those short little pencils stowed next to them. He hastily scribbled something onto the slip of paper, folded it sloppily in half, and forcefully shoved it into the slot on the top of the box.
“How’s that for a suggestion!” He huffed angrily, now breathing heavily as if it took all the strength within him to do that.
Aziraphale felt his heart fall (still wondering when the rest of him would follow), but lowered the box to open the hatch in the back. Whatever damning thing Crowley wrote deserved to be read, to be heard, even if it destroyed Aziraphale. He owed him that much, at least.
With a heavy heart, Aziraphale removed the note from the box, unfolded it, and read the messily scrawled message.
A sharp gasp came from the angel, and his hand came up to his mouth (as it was wont to do ever since Crowley kissed him). He struggled to put the box down without dropping it, and looked back up at the demon, wondering if this was all just some cruel joke.
But Crowley would never. Not about this. He could tell by the look in those beautiful golden eyes (with those blasted glasses how tossed to the side next to this box), and the tears falling down the demon’s face did not lie.
Aziraphale sprang up from where he was kneeling, and Crowley leant forward, arms outstretched to meet the angel halfway. They crashed into each other like meteors, arms wrapping around each other and holding on for dear life.
In his arms, here, pressed up against him, Aziraphale held everything in his hands. Here, he had everything.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” he could hardly get out with his face pressed into Crowley’s shoulder and tears staining his demon’s jacket, but he had to. No words could hold what he needed Crowley to know, but maybe, at least right now, he didn’t need words.
“I forgive you, I have you, I love you, I forgive you,” Crowley promised into his hair where his demonic tears were landing.
Later, there would be many more words to be had, feelings to express, plans to make, and promises to keep, but for now, right now, in this one moment,
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