Chapter Text
Muriel walked behind Crowley, trying to match his pace as they walked through the streets towards the bookshop. They poked their tongue out the corner of their mouth as they crossed one leg over the other in an exaggerated way, only to fall forward and straight into Crowley.
“Oops! Sorry!”
“What on earth are you doing?” Crowley stopped and turned to face them, an amused look on his face.
“On Earth, I was copying you.”
“Copying me? What was I doing?”
“You were walking funny.”
“I don’t walk funny !” Crowley cried. “The cheek of you!”
“You do walk funny!” Muriel laughed, before trying to copy Crowley’s walk again, walking past him. “Like this!”
“That’s not a walk, that’s a strut, and it’s not funny, it’s styli- Oi! Don’t strut away from me!” Crowley scoffed in amusement and ran after them. He caught them up at the entrance of the bookshop, giving them a small fist-bump to the shoulder before barging ahead into the bookshop.
“We’ve got mail.” Crowley announced, but made no move to pick the post up and simply stepped over it. Muriel didn’t mind, however, and picked up the few envelopes that lay on the mat before going through them. Crowley sat on the armchair and threw his legs over one arm. Perhaps he’d claim this armchair as his own.
“Oh.”
“Oh?” The demon raised an eyebrow.
“I’ve been summoned to Heaven.” Muriel stated matter-of-factly. Crowley frowned, and reached up for the letter.
“By post?”
“Perhaps Mr Aziraphale likes human traditions.” Muriel reasoned, handing it over. Yellow eyes scanned the loopy writing.
“Effective immediately? Must be important.”
“Oh, I doubt it. It’s me.” Muriel shrugged. Crowley leaned over and shoved them playfully.
“Oi. That’s my favourite Muriel you’re insulting.” Crowley smiled warmly. Muriel made it easy to smile warmly, he found. “You’d better see what they want. You gonna be alright?”
“Yeah.” Muriel whispered, but they didn’t look like they believed themselves. “You’ll be here when I come back, won’t you?”
“Of course.” Crowley nodded. “We can get ice-cream to cheer you up after whatever lies they tell you.” Muriel smiled then.
“Okay! I’ll be back soon, Crowley.”
“I’ll be here.” Crowley reinforced his promise. Muriel gave him one last nod before turning to the front door, miricaling the door to open up to the elevator to Heaven. They wasted no time stepping in and, after giving Crowley a small wave and receiving one back, they rode the elevator up.
It opened in heaven. Of course it did. That was where Muriel had wanted to go, after all. Well, not wanted. Needed . And as much as they wished they didn’t have to face Michael and the others, a part of them was hoping they’d see Aziraphale. They liked Aziraphale.
“Hello, Muriel.” Michael’s voice sent shivers down Muriel’s form. They forced a smile at the group of Angels that had formed at the elevator exit.
“Hello.”
“Come, Muriel. We have much to discuss.”
Muriel went.
Crowley scanned the letter in his hand for the thirtieth time. He knew Aziraphale’s fancy writing well enough to know he was behind this, whatever this was. He just hoped Michael wasn’t a dick. For both their sakes.
He tossed the letter aside and threw his head back, making a noise of discomfort. Even the six-shots-of-expresso he’d gotten from Nina after Muriel had left wasn’t helping his foul mood.
He and Muriel had had a wonderful morning at St James’ Park. Muriel had suddenly decided they wanted to experience a picnic, and couldn’t wait until lunchtime, so Crowley had indulged them. Breakfast in the park wasn’t a terrible way to start the morning, he found.
However, he couldn’t shake the discomfort that loomed like a dark cloud over his head.
A scream tore through the silence; not on the earthly plane, but somewhere within the ethereal plane. It wasn’t a scream he’d ever heard or felt before, but it was a scream he’d made before: Confused and agonized and betrayed. Fallen.
And he knew that voice…
No. Heaven wouldn’t- Not to them…
Crowley was on his feet before his brain had given his body the order, and out the door before he’d even formulated a plan in his head. He tore his wings from the ethereal plane to the corporal plane and propelled himself upwards, his wings screaming from the first use they’d experienced in 6000 years. Crowley ignored it, and instead focused on matching his trajectory with what seemed to be a comet, but Crowley knew better. He knew Heaven too well.
Of course they fucking had.
And fuck, his wings were so fucking useless; There were buildings higher than this! He pushed himself forward, soaring higher until Muriel plummeted into him. Crowley instinctively pulled them as close as he could manage, ignoring the burning sensation that he knew well enough.
The force of the impact was enough to knock Crowley back enough for gravity to get a good grip on the both of them, even with Crowley’s wings spread in an attempt to slow the descent. He shifted his body to cushion Muriel before the two of them crashed into the road in a cloud of smoke, dust and rubble, just outside the bookshop.
As the dust settled, Crowley clung tightly to Muriel while avoiding their wings, as though it would stop the violent trembling.
”I got you.” Crowley whispered, pulling the ange- the- oh god… Crowley pulled Muriel even closer, wrapping his wings around them as best he could. It was difficult with Muriel’s own wings twisted behind them. “I got you, M. I got you. Told you I’d be here, didn’t I?”
It was a miracle that no one thought that they or the newly formed crater in the road were interesting enough to look at.
“M, say something.” Crowley whispered, not daring to look, to see the damage. Right now, according to his good old friend Scrodinger, Muriel was in a state of both fine and not fine as long as he didn’t look at them to confirm which state they were in.
“…C-can I say fuck now?”
Crowley couldn’t help it. He barked a single laugh, sorrowful tears disguising themselves as tears of joy.
“By all means.”
“Fuck…” Muriel curled up into Crowley, burying their face in the crook of his neck. “It really hurts!”
“It does, I know it does. I’m sorry. I can’t do anything, Petal. I can’t heal you.” Crowley whispered, running his hand through their hair in a desperate attempt to soothe them. “I’m so sorry, I can’t help you.”
“You are…” Muriel whimpered, clutching at Crowley’s jacket. “You are helping.”
With that, Crowley forced himself to look down, to stop being selfish and comfort his friend.
Muriel’s wings, though no longer flaming, were still well-within the burning process. Thin lines of hellfire trailed up feathers individually, slowly burning pure white to charcoal black. Muriel’s skin was hot to the touch and still smoking, though thankfully not too burned or charred. Large surface burns decorated their arms and face, and his own, but not enough to cause irreversible damage. Corporeal forms weren’t very easy to replace nowadays after all.
Muriel was trying not to cry, but was also failing dismally. Tears filled dark brown eyes that were no longer human, but not too dissimilar. They tried to smile at Crowley, but it only made them wince in pain. Crowley shushed them, despite the fact they hadn’t spoken, and rested his cheek atop their head.
“Oh, M… How could Heaven-”
But wait.
Heaven was under new management. With Gabriel long gone and Aziraphale being the saint he thought he was, Heaven had a new Supreme Arch-Angel.
How could Aziraphale do this?
Crowley had only ever felt anger so strong one time, right there in the middle of the street after Aziraphale had asked him to stay and help Gabriel and risk everything in the process. He counted to ten desperately, unwilling to cause Muriel more pain than they were already going through by doing something stupid. Muriel wouldn’t appreciate being zapped by lightning.
They wouldn’t complain though, would they? Because they were self-less and kind and forgiving and, for some fucking reason, they adored Crowley. Crowley could do no wrong in their eyes. That and they saw themself as nothing important.
Fuck- Why the Hell had they Fallen?
“Come on, Petal, let’s get you inside…” Crowley used that as an excuse to distract himself from the spiral of anger whirling deep within his core. He tried as gently as he could to shift without causing Muriel any pain. He failed, and Muriel tried to hide the fact, which only made Crowley feel worse.
“Thank you… for catching me.” Muriel whimpered, trying not to cry out. Their eyes fell on a burn on Crowley’s jawline. “I’m sorry…” They started, but Crowley quickly shook his head as he stood, holding Muriel bridal style in an attempt to cause as little pain as he could.
“Don’t. I don’t want to hear another apology from you, you did nothing wrong.” Crowley scowled as he moved towards the bookshop. “You’ve done nothing to deserve this.”
“But you’re scared of Falling. It hurt you; it’s hurting you again. And you’re still here.” Muriel whispered. “You don’t have to be.”
“Of course I’m here. I told you I would be, didn’t I?” Crowley turned, using his back to push the door open, before entering the bookshop. He carried Muriel over to the sofa, laying them down as gently as he could. It didn’t work, and Muriel cried out in pain, gripping at Crowley’s jacket tighter.
“I’m sorry, Petal, I’m sorry.” Crowley whispered, kneeling down next to Muriel, moving one hand to hold Muriel’s hand and using the other to gently brush their hair from their face. “You’ll be okay. The worst part is over. Just… Once the hellfire is finished, you’ll feel so much better.”
“Will I be a snake?” Muriel asked, and Crowley couldn’t help but smile sadly at the question.
“Doesn’t look like it. But I’ve eaten enough rabbits in my time as a snake to know what rabbit eyes look like.”
“Oh. That’s not t-too bad, I think…”
And wasn’t that just bloody typical: That Muriel’s animal aspect was prey, and that Crowley’s was their own predator.
It was like Heaven was trying to-
Oh.
Oh.
“M?”
“Yes?”
“Why did Heaven cast you out?” Crowley asked, swallowing thickly. Muriel blinked at him. “Was it because of us?”
“I-”
“Crowley?”
Crowley’s already cold blood ran colder at the familiar voice. He scowled, tearing himself from Muriel to stand and turn towards the voice.
There he was, the asshole, in all his holy glory.
Aziraphale.
“Oh, Muriel, sweetheart…”
No. Hell no. He did not get to cast them out and feign concern. No way in hell. How dare he have the audacity to look guilty? Crowley snapped immediately.
“No. Don’t even look at them. You address me.” The demon snarled. Aziraphale’s eyes snapped to Crowley’s, wide and afraid.
“I-I tried to come to warn you, but I-”
“Stop.” Crowley snarled deeper, raising his wings defensively to form a wall between Aziraphale and Muriel. He then stepped closer, his yellow eyes shining as he clenched his jaw.
“Why the fuck did you do this?”