Summary: Crowley and Aziraphel stand in the bookshop in front of God, but before they ask for time to think about what they want, Crowley speaks his mind about what he truly wishes for.
Words: 0,8k
Tags: Spoilers (S3), Angst, thinking of sacrificing oneself, fix it, good ending, no beta
A/N: Just a small and quick alternate ending for my heart. Thanks to @daintycrow for the initial idea. Also I wrote this instead of sleeping..
And as Crowley stood near the door of the bookshop he could have sworn to have heard the so well-known voices of the people who once lived and roamed the streets, instead though he found himself standing in front of God, something he had wanted, a long forgotten time ago, to ask questions. He had just wanted to ask questions back then.. how foolish and senseless it all seemed in this moment..
Now, to listen to the Angel asking God his own question, Crowley thought he had never felt this helpless, never felt this kind of agony when the angel sobbed softly while uttering out his words, because all Crowley could do in this moment was to listen. And to wish he could change- he could do something! But hadn't he already done everything he possibly could?
God answered, but Crowley could care less, instead gazed at the profile of the angel. It hadn't been that long ago since they've almost stood the exact same, when Crowley had tried desperately to convince Aziraphel to 'go off together'. He had stood right there when his Angel had 'forgiven' him. And where the other had been standing when he himself had uttered almost the exact same words when the angel had asked for it. Crowley could never deny the other, after all.
"I give you the choice."
It was final, that much was evident, he could feel it deep in his bones. Could see the uncertainty from the other, the way he swayed from one foot to the other, the way he tensed and pursed his lips. Aziraphel was trying to find the right words, to buy them time, probably, or to be able to find something else. Anything else.
Their eyes locked a second. It was like a punch Crowley had been too blind to recognize in time; to see the fear in the eyes of his Angel.. he hated it. So much.
"Make him happy," he murmured without thinking twice.
The other gasped. "Crow-"
"Give him what he needs to be able to be truly happy." Not once had he taken off his eyes from the other who stood still, shocked, perhaps, with big eyes. "Whether that means a world how we've always known it to be or something completely different. Without heaven, without hell - without demons."
"That is your choice?"
If Aziraphel could form coherent sentences, he probably would've spoken out immediately, but now could only try to keep his tears at bay, swallowing thickly.
Crowley glanced at his Angel one last time before looking over to God. "That is the choice."
"Very well."
And with that Crowley took a deep breath and closed his eyes, waited for what needed to happen. Waited for the eternal darkness and deafness and- whatever it was that was supposed to happen to him when demons got destroyed for this new world. That's what the angel had always wanted, right? Bright, good-natured heaven, no hell and no demons. That's why he had chosen heaven over him. So, whatever needed to happen-
To say Crowley was confused when voices reached his ears was an understatement. And when he opened his eyes, he had to hold up his hand against the sun that.. lightened up.. the bookshop?
His arm fell to his side when he recognized the building - that hadn't changed at all - and made out movements from outside the windows. There were humans walking and cars - his car! - parked along the street, and everything just seemed so alive and how it had been, yet so different in a way he couldn't put his finger on it.
"That- but.. how?" When he turned around his eyes caught the angel who was standing in the middle of the room near the rounded side table, looking at him with something of a smile himself, and a lot of other emotions as well. Crowley shook his head and came closer.
"I don't understand," he said, stopping right next to the other.
"You remember what you wished for?"
On any other day Crowley would've argued that it hadn't been a wish, but rather a choice that had to be made. But this wasn't any other day, so he just nodded.
"That's why I'm confused," he confessed, his voice a tad smaller than before. "How is it that I'm still here, in the world?"
The way the angel sucked in a breath and his eyes glimmered again, Crowley feared having said the wrong thing again. "Oh, Crowley." But then a soft hand stroked his cheek before staying right there, as if it belonged nowhere else, catching a stray tear nobody commented on. "Because you, my dear, are what makes me truly happy." His vision blurred, and somehow he didn't even try to suppress it anymore, didn't shy away when his Angel caught every single one. "Because you are my world."
I think the MoDos think the cameras are food machines. This would explain why they like to park themselves in front of them. This one's all puffed up, probably digesting breakfast in this bitter cold. (Video is slightly sped up.) They are so camera-conscious, it makes me giggle.
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