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Take me back (to when he was there)

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After the complete failures that were their trials, Crowley had expected to be left alone for a while. Of course, he wasn't naïve. He was aware neither Heaven nor Hell were happy with how things turned out and he knew they'd do something about it eventually.

And so, Crowley should have been more cautious. He should have expected the enemy to attack them.

Now, Aziraphale was gone. Really gone this time, no turning back. He hadn't been discorporated, or imprisoned, or sent away. He had been stabbed by a fucking holy sword . And he hadn't had any time to react. To escape. To dodge. To do something .

And Crowley had just watched it happen.

Crowley screamed .

And he cried. He cried until there were no tears left in him. He cried because he had lost the love of his life forever. He cried until his corporation gave up and he fell asleep.

He woke up crying.


When he calmed down enough to look around, he noticed that he still was in the same place where Aziraphale had died, with his angel still in his arms. Lifeless.

He sobbed, and took a shaky breath.

The world around him was very quiet and very still, even though they were on Central London. He had stopped time while in his grief, and he didn’t want to start it again. What was the point? A world without his angel, he didn’t want to live there.

If only he could talk to Aziraphale again. Tell him how much he loved him. Tell him how much he enjoyed every little moment by his side. Tell him…

Wait.

He could, theoretically.

He could turn back time.

He knew how to do it. It was basically the same as what he'd just done, but with a little extra work. He'd just have to spin the wheel of time the other way around.

He could see Aziraphale again.


Playing with time was a Terrible Idea™. It was, however, the only idea he had, and Crowley didn't care much anymore. He'd just have to be very careful when molding time. He planned to go just a few weeks back, not too far back but not too soon either, just enough to have time to prepare for the imminent fight in which Aziraphale Would Not Die.

He took a deep, unnecessary breath and closed his eyes. He could feel time twist in his fingers delicately. Only a few weeks, only a few weeks. He felt himself, his corporation, starting to go backwards, minute by minute, day by day, in a slow motion.

He would see his angel again, and he would hug him so tightly and never let go, and— oh fuck .

Time was regressing way too fast. Too caught up in his memories, Crowley didn't realize when days became years, then decades, and then centuries.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. He had to make it stop. He had to make it stop now .

And everything went very still again. Time slipped away from his fingers and into the world. He fell to his knees, gasping for air he didn't need.

It took him a long moment to compose himself, and when he did, he started to look around curiously. First of all, where and when was he? He tried to get up, but sudden dizziness made him think twice about it. He crawled to the nearest wall and leaned on it.

He was in Hell. And really far back in time, given the notorious lack of leds in the halls. Exactly how far, he wasn’t sure; Maybe a century or two. Then Crowley looked at himself and froze; horrible black robes covering him up from neck to ankles and long curly hair falling past his shoulders.

Fuck. Scratch that. He hadn't dress like this since Yehoshua's crucifixion.

Slowly, Crowley got up with the help of the wall and took a tentative step forward. He didn’t feel like throwing up, which was as good as it could possibly be. He took another step, then other, and so on. He kept his hand on the wall as he made his way carefully around Hell. He needed to go back to Earth to know for sure when he was and how far he and Aziraphale were into their relationship .

Crowley continued walking forward, since he wasn’t sure in which part of Hell he had awoken, and only stopped when he found himself face to face with Lord Beelzebub , of all possible demons.

Before he could walk away, the Lord of Flies called out, “Ah, you, the redhead. Just the demon I wazz looking for. What izz your name?”

Crowley tried to act as casual as he possibly could, which he knew wasn’t all that convincing. The rational side of his mind knew that this Beelzebub hadn’t try to drown him in holy water yet, but he was really tired to be fully rational at the moment. “Crowley,” he replied, remembering a moment too late that at this point in time he was most likely known as Crawly .

Beelzebub nodded and repeated it, “Crowley.” Some flies spinned too close to Crowley's face, and he made an effort not to look disgusted. He was suddenly intimately aware of the absence of his glasses, and he hated how vulnerable it made him feel. “It seemzz that the Almighty has finally finished their garden of humanzz, zzo why don’t you go up there and make zzome chaozz, Crowley?”

Garden of humans? No… No, no, no. No. Surely he couldn’t be that far back. Crowley prayed, really prayed, that he wasn’t when he thought he was.

While on the inside he was having a Real Crisis™, on the outside Crowley nodded, hoping his eyes didn't give away his panic. The Lord nodded back, seemingly satisfied and thankfully oblivious, and walked away.

Playing with time was definitely a Terrible Idea.


It took Crowley a while to stop panicking over the fact that he didn’t even met his angel yet and to start crawling his way up to the Garden. He didn’t put too much thought into tempting Eve, his mind rather busy thinking about More Important Things™.

He could mold time again to go back to the future, but he doubted he had the strength to do so just now and not end up discorporated or worse. No, he’d have to wait and rest. He needed his full power or he’d just fuck things up again.

In the meanwhile, though, meeting his angel for the first time again was Crowley’s objective.

Aziraphale was as stunning as always, although the robes didn’t suit him at all. Crowley never thought he’d think this, but tartan looked so much better on his angel than those impeccable white robes. It also had been quite a surprise to see Aziraphale show his wings so calmly. It made sense though, his angel had yet to live in a world where angelic wings frightened humans.

Crowley did his best to repeat the conversation, ‘cause he knew first impressions were important, but it had been six thousand years since that, and his mind couldn't remember every exact word.

In the end, he had to improvise. That by itself shouldn't have been a problem, he was used to talk with his angel. But the thing was, he was used to talking with his angel. And the principality in front of him wasn't that person.

This Aziraphale was full of distrust for demons. He wasn't confident on himself, and he didn't question his orders in the slightest. He hadn't yet come to love humanity and all they could offer.

Crowley had never actually realized how much his angel had changed because of all the time spent on Earth, spent with humans, spent with him. But now, the difference was as clear as water. Crowley knew that this Aziraphale loved the world and loved humans, but he also knew it wasn't because he had fallen in love after watching over them for millenia. No, it was because he was ordered , by God, to love all this. He loved Earth and everything on it, but he wasn’t in love with it.

The angel had a long time coming, but it would be worth it. Crowley knew it was worth it.


He informed downstairs of his success at tempting the first humans, and crawled back to Earth. If he had to wait, he certainly wasn't going to do it in Hell.

He hung around the humans, always in his snake form, of course. Eve was expecting already, and Crowley found it extremely funny to watch Adam not knowing how to deal with her pregnancy cravings.

He remembered that the first time he had been more confused than amused, but now he knew why she acted like that and it was hard not to laugh.

"They'll realize you're a demon if you keep laughing like that."

Crowley was startled by Her voice and he quickly turned around in a defensive manner. She didn't even react, at all. He frowned, confused and annoyed and slightly fearful. He didn't remember this, God had never talked to any demon. Ever . Crowley doubted She even talked to the angels anymore.

But he didn't say any of that, instead staring suspiciously at Her.

She continued, unbothered, "You are too old to be here, don't you think?" She sat next to him, and he resisted the urge to move away. "I know why you are here, Crowley. But you shouldn't be."

"Why? Too scared I'll do something to your precious toys?" Crowley heard himself say, and he wondered if his instinct of self preservation had disappeared when he came back.

She shook her head slightly. "No. I know you wouldn't," She smiled, and if he didn't know any better, he'd say She looked sad. "You shouldn't be here because someone is waiting for you in the future."

"You're wrong." he hissed. "Aziraphale died. Thanks to your oh-so-good angels." He made an effort to look Her in the eyes, which was no small feat, and then added, "You let him die."

God didn’t reply for a long time, just stared at him with those knowing eyes of Hers, and Crowley started to internally debate if he should just walk away and pretend this never happened before the Almighty decided to smite him then and there for back talking. It wouldn’t be the first time She did that, but he actually liked exiting, y’know?

And then, to his confusion, She sighed.

“You’re right,” God finally said, and Crowley blinked. “I should have prevented that.”

What…?

“I’m sending you back to your time, Crowley,” She announced suddenly. And Crowley didn’t even have time to react before a ray of light wrapped around him. His eyes widened, no, no, no, no! Is She sending me back to a time after Aziraphale died?! I can’t— No, please—!

And his world went dark.


Crowley woke up with a halt, mind racing with panic. When was he? He needed to know. To when exactly did She sent him? Was it before or after Aziraphale—

He shook his head violently, stopping that train of thought in its tracks, and looked around frantically. He was in the bookshop, tucked in their bed. Okay, okay — He didn’t know yet what day it was, but it was okay. Aziraphale could still be here.

He almost tripped on the sheets when he went to get up, but that didn’t stop him from practically running down the stairs. There was a soft hum coming from the kitchen, and Crowley didn’t hesitate to go in that direction.

He froze when he saw his angel there, preparing some food. He had his back towards him but promptly turned around with a soft smile on his face when he noticed his presence.

“Morning, dea—” he didn’t get to finish that sentence as Crowley threw himself at him, hugging him with more force than necessary, because he needed to know he was real, that this wasn’t some cruel trick of his mind. Aziraphale’s arms gently wrapped around him in response, and he could feel his eyes start to sting. “Are you alright, Crowley? Did you have a nightmare again?”

Crowley didn’t answer him, just hugged him tighter, face hidden in the crook of the other’s neck.

I’m really back. Aziraphale is really here.

If he didn’t let got of his angel for the rest of the week, it was nobody’s business but his own.