Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Crowley sauntered into the bookshop, slamming the door behind him. 

He’d said he wasn’t going to do this, wasn’t going to return to the bookshop so long as Aziraphale wasn’t there, but it had been three whole days since the Angel had switched from ‘their side’ to ‘his side’, and Crowley was missing him desperately. Not that he’d ever admit it.

That, and the Bentley was being very uncooperative right now.

Despite Shax returning his flat to him, he couldn’t get comfortable there. Memories of Armageddon tormented him by day, while recollections of his Fall plagued him by night. At least in the Bentley, he was so uncomfortable that sleep was fleeting and feverish; He rarely slept long enough to dream anymore.

Which was why he slept in the Bentley.

Which, subsequently, was the reason the Bentley was being uncooperative.

“Mr Crowley! Hi!”

Crowley groaned inwardly at the over-eager chipper voice that came from behind the bookshelves. If he’d looked up, he’d have seen Muriel’s head poking out, beaming at him.

“It’s just Crowley, Muriel.” He muttered, striding across the bookshop to Aziraphale’s armchair, or was it Muriel’s now? They owned the place now, after all…

Bloody Metatron.

Crowley slumped down in the chair as Muriel practically skipped into view, their smile so bright it almost matched Aziraphale’s.

Almost.

“How can I help you?” Muriel asked, stopping in front of him and leaning back on their heels, hands clasped behind their back. They were the absolute image of obedience, reminding Crowley once again of a certain someone. They hadn’t asked him what he was doing there, nor tried to send him away, or stop him from entering. Despite owning the bookshop, Muriel had allowed Crowley to enter and do whatever he damn well pleased. 

Heaven, they’d probably let him walk all over them and still offer their services, and he knew the fuckers upstairs were the reason why.

“Fucking Heaven.” Crowley grumbled, sprawling out. “The toxic fuckers.”

“What was that?”

“Heaven. Being assholes. All you good Angels are so… stiff and loyal. Wasted up there. They’re corrupt and abusive. Aziraphale was just like you.”

“You think I’m a good Angel?” Muriel beamed brighter. “Like Mr Aziraphale?”

“Well… you’re certainly a better Angel than you are an Inspector Constable.” Crowley responded, hoping it was insulting enough to not be ‘kind’, as Aziraphale called him.

It had the opposite effect.

“Oh! Thank you!” Muriel practically squeaked. “Oh! Sorry! How can I help you?”

“I just…” Crowley paused. What did he want? Why was he here? He very well wasn’t going to confess to Muriel of all people- Angels- that he missed Aziraphale. “I thought I could cause some hell in here, to keep up my demon status. Rearrange a few books, sell a single book from each collection, that sort of thing.”

“Oh! Well, Mr Aziraphale would be very upset if you sold a book.”

‘That’s the point…’ Crowley thought.

“He said not to let a single book leave the shop, except the ones I’m reading. I’m reading a few now actually, they’re very interesting! But you can rearrange the books if you want to!” Muriel lit up at the idea. “Oh! And maybe you could hide the books instead of selling them?”

Crowley couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah! They’re not leaving the shop if you’re hiding them here!”

“You’re absolutely right.” Crowley agreed. “Cuppa tea, Inspector Constable?”

“Oh, yes please! I want to try drinking it this time! Is that okay?” Muriel asked as Crowley stood, before following him to the kitchen, hands still clasped behind their back.

“Listen, anything you wanna do, just do it, okay? Fuck Heaven.” Crowley scowled. “They can’t make you do anything, not if you don’t want them to.”

“Oh, they don’t make me do anything!” Muriel half-giggled, watching carefully as Crowley gathered the things needed to make a cuppa tea. “They don’t even talk to me! In fact, the whole thing with Gabriel was the first time I’ve ever spoken to another Angel in 300 years!”

“What?” Crowley blinked. “You mean they just… don’t talk to you?”

“Nope. I’m the lowest ranking Angel there is, so I’m not important enough to talk to! Sometimes they want a document or for something to be written down every few hundred years.” Muriel chirped. “It’s really scary when they do talk to me but also really exciting? And now I get to talk to you too! Oh, and the humans!”

Ah, yes… Muriel had said something like that in Heaven, hadn’t they? Not that Crowley had been listening… Had they been serious?

“You haven’t spoken to anything in 300 years until Gabriel disappeared?” Crowley asked again, unsure if he was understanding correctly, because if he was, then how fucking dare they ?

“Nope!”

Crowley’s anger was enough to boil the kettle, but he used a miracle anyway. 

He wasn’t just angry at Heaven, no. He was pissed, but he was also angry that Muriel seemed completely oblivious to the abuse, neglect and corruption that Heaven had put them through. He wasn’t about to explain that to them, though. The Angel seemed happy enough, and he wasn’t about to introduce them to trauma and depression.

“You can talk to me anytime. Can’t guarantee I’ll listen.” He offered instead, pouring the boiling water into two cups with tea bags in.

“Oh, thank you! I’ll try to be good at it. I’ve been told I’m very boring.” Muriel laughed nervously. Crowley forced a smile, and repeated the fist-bump on their shoulder that he’d done in Heaven.

“If you were boring, I’d be long gone by now.” He winced, realizing he hadn’t been at all rude or insulting. He quickly picked up a tea cup and changed topics. “One cuppa tea.” He offered it to Muriel, who beamed.

“Thank you!” They froze, staring at the cup as Crowley picked up his own. “Um… Sorry… H-how do I-?”

“Ah. Yes. First, take your cup by the handle. And stick out your pinky.” Crowley knew the pinky wasn’t needed, not often done anymore, but he couldn’t help but mess with the Angel a little. That, and it just seemed right. Muriel frowned in concentration, wrapping their fingers around the handle of the tea cup and extending their pinky.

And then promptly blinded Crowley with their delighted grin.

“Yes, yes, very good.” Crowley rolled his eyes. “Now bring it to your lips, but blow on it first.”

“Oh, why?” Muriel asked before blowing into the cup.

“It’s hot. Don’t want to burn your tongue.” Crowley explained, bringing his drink to sip. He had, however, forgotten to blow on the beverage to cool it, and promptly burnt his tongue.

“Ah, fuck!” The demon hissed, almost dropping the cup. He quickly turned and slammed it down on the counter, muttering a string of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck!’ as he did. 

“Fuck!”

“Ngk-!” Suddenly, Crowley’s tongue was cured and the only thing that mattered was the tiny Angel behind him who’d just set their own cup down loudly onto the counter. He spun on his heel and turned to face them.

They were beaming.

“What… did you just say?” He dared to ask.

“Oh! I said fuck!”

“No!” Crowley cried. “No! You can’t say that word!”

“Why not? You say it.”

“It’s- I… It’s…!” Crowley grasped for an excuse but found none. He wasn’t even sure why he was upset that they’d used the word. It was just a word. One that shouldn’t ever leave Muriel’s mouth, for some reason. “It’s a bad word! You can’t say it!”

“Why can you say it then?” Muriel tilted their head curiously, and Crowley groaned.

“Because I’m bad! I can say bad words! You can’t!”

“I don’t think you’re bad, Mr Crowley.”

Hell, there was that fucking smile again.

“Of course you don’t…” Crowley sighed, rubbing his forehead. “It is a bad word, you’re not allowed to say it. Okay?”

“Okay. What else can’t I say?”

“I’m not going to give you a list of bad words! Just- Drink your damn tea! And blow on it first!”

“Okay!” Muriel picked up the cup and tried again, and to Crowley’s relief, they didn’t repeat the curse word.

‘Good.’ Crowley thought.

“Oh! I don’t like it.” Muriel exclaimed in delight. “That’s truly disgusting!” 

“You-” Crowley watched in disbelief as Muriel proceeded to drink the whole cup, before placing it down on the counter. “Why did you drink it if you didn’t like it?”

“So I could drink a cuppa tea.” 

“Usually, if Humans don’t like a drink, they dont drink it.”

“Oh. Should I put it back?”

“No! No. Keep it in your system, it’s fine.” Crowley wasn’t about to explain how to remove substances from the corporeal form. “But… maybe we should find something you do like? Maybe a hot chocolate is more your style?” He suggested with a raised eyebrow. Muriel’s face lit up again.

“Oh, yes, please!”

Crowley nodded and forced a smile.

What the hell had he gotten himself into with this Angel?

Chapter Text

A week had passed with very little event. Crowley had made no move to leave the bookshop, and Muriel had made no attempts to send him away, so they both stayed and found they’d fallen into a neat little routine together.

During the day, Crowley would help Muriel deter customers while causing small mayhems, such as hiding the books around the shop, mixing up the orders of books in a series, switching one collectible book with another collectible book, swapping book sleeves over, and his personal favourite: swiping books off a single shelf.

At night, after tending to the plants that he’d moved into the shop, Crowley would sleep wherever he deemed fit while Muriel sorted through the chaos and put everything back where it was meant to go. By the time they’d fixed everything, Crowley would awaken, tend to his plants, and then start the day by teaching Muriel some human customs. 

Muriel’s favourite human custom was breakfast.

The aforementioned Angel sat on the lower floor of the bookshop, a tray on their lap with half a hot chocolate and a slice of toast and jam. It wasn’t as yummy as when Crowley made it, they found, but it was still nice. They sat stiffly in the armchair, taking the occasional bite of their toast as they read their book.

Until a noise from above stole their attention away from the book.

“Good morning, Mr Crowley!” Muriel beamed as Crowley strode down the stairs and into the lower bookshop. Crowley gave a half-smile.

“Just Crowley. You catch everything last night?”

“I reordered the Jane Austin books, re-stocked the shelf you pushed off, swapped the Famous Five and Secret Seven books back, I found the books you hid under the desk, in the bin, and on top of the fridge, and I took the Oscar Wilde books out of the oven.”

“Good job.” Crowley reached up and ruffled the Angel’s hair fondly. He wasn’t sure when he’d started doing that, but the smile Muriel gave him when he did was absolutely worth keeping it up. “So… Which human tradition are we mastering today?”

“Oh! I think I want to try going for a stroll today! I read about it in this book, it sounds lovely!”

“Right then. You finish your breakfast while I go and tend to my plants. Come find me when you’re done, yeah?” He didn’t wait for a response, just made his way back upstairs. 

Once he was gone, Muriel quickly finished their breakfast and put a bookmark in their book. Well… They didn’t actually have a bookmark. They couldn’t find one, so they’d just used an old ticket stub they’d found for ‘Ladies Of Camelot’, whatever that was…

Excitedly, they tidied away their breakfast tray and moved to check their reflection in a desk mirror to make sure they looked presentable. Crowley had kept telling them to stop standing with their hands behind their back, and not to stand so straight. They tried their best to slouch like Crowley, but they weren’t very good at it yet. They brushed at their cream uniform, having swapped their police outfit for the one they’d worn in Heaven. Crowley said it suited them better. Once they were happy that they looked human enough, they climbed up the stairs to find Crowley.

They brushed off their uniform once more before knocking on the door.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake! Can you do anything fucking right?!”

Muriel gasped, taken aback. Their chest tightened the same way it used to when the Arch-Angels scolded them.

“Aziraphale was too fucking soft with you, you stupid, useless, pathetic excuse of a specimen!”

But… what had they missed? Crowley had said to finish their breakfast, and to come and find him. Hadn’t he? Had he? Oh, no… maybe he hadn’t… Oh, no…

“I ought to dispose of you! If it weren’t for him, I fucking would! I don’t wanna fucking see you or him ever again!”

Muriel’s eyes… Well, they didn’t know what they were doing, but they hurt . And so did their throat, and their chest. Oh, what was this…? Was their corporeal form broken? Their eyes started to leak as their chest tightened. They brought their hands to their eyes in an attempt to stop the leaking, but it was futile. 

Their corporeal form just leaked twice as fast, and the oxygen they didn’t need was getting harder and harder to consume. 

The door opened suddenly, revealing Crowley in all his anger, jaw clenched and blazing yellow eyes unshielded by his glasses. 

Muriel couldn’t help but take a few steps back, a choked sound escaping them. They quickly brought their hands to their mouth to prevent it from happening again.

Crowley’s posture changed in an instant.

“Hey, what-?”

“I’m sorry!” Muriel cried desperately. They didn’t know what was happening, just that they’d upset Crowley, and they hadn’t meant to do that at all… Oh, Crowley was so angry. He didn’t want them here. It was like being back in Heaven. “Oh, I’m so sorry!”

“For what-?” Crowley reached for Muriel’s shoulder, but they flinched back. They didn’t like when the Arch-Angels in heaven hit them. “M, what happened?”

“I didn’t mean to make you cross, I promise I didn’t! I can leave!” Muriel couldn’t make the right words, their chest hurt so bad, their eyes burned , why were they leaking ? “I-I’ll leave and I’ll- I’ll never bother you again! I-I won’t, I-I can- Oh- What’s happening to me-? I think I’m broken!”

“Shh, Petal…” Crowley whispered, slowly reaching for Muriel again. They let him this time, desperate to stop whatever was going on. Crowley ignored the flinch from the smaller Angel and leaned down until they were at eye-level. “Don’t hold it in, do what the body wants.” Muriel sobbed at the permission, which only filled Crowley with more dread. “Are you injured?”

“I-I don’t know…”

“Tell me what’s happening, M.” Crowley pushed, scanning Muriel over for injuries.

“I-I don’t think I can!”

“Try.”

“I- I came to get you, like you said, but you were so angry and I- I think I was bad, I didn’t mean to be- I thought I was doing the right thing! And my chest started to get all tight, and my- my eyes are leaking, and I can’t think properly!”

Crowley inhaled sharply.

“Ngk… Muriel, did you think I was shouting at you?”

“W-weren’t you?”

“Heaven- No!” Crowley choked, suddenly pulling Muriel closer and wrapping his arms around them. Muriel tensed, not knowing what to do, but- Oh, this was nice… This was warm and nice, not like the hitting they usually got. It was slightly easier to breathe like this. “I was yelling at the plants.” Crowley explained. “Specifically one Aziraphale gave me. It’s stopped growing since he left, so I got cross with it. I’m not angry with you. Heaven, I don’t think you could do anything to make anyone angry.”

“Saying fuck made you angry.”

“And yet you keep saying it.” Crowley tried to joke, but Muriel stiffened in his hold, so he quickly rubbed one hand up and down their back. “You haven’t made me angry, I’m not angry with you, and I don’t want you to leave. Even if you say fuck.”

“Wh-what’s this? That we’re doing?” Muriel dared to asked, leaning into Crowley. The Demon tightened his hold a little.

“Oh. Um… It’s a hug. Aziraphale taught it to me. It’s a human thing, they do it when other humans are sad, or if they love another human. Sometimes they do it when they’re really happy.”

“I like it.” Muriel whispered, the tension leaving their body. “I don’t hurt anymore.”

“Hurt?” Crowley pushed gently.

“My eyes, and my chest, and my throat. They all hurt, but they don’t now.”

“Shit.” Crowley sighed. “Trust me to show you what sadness feels like on your first month on Earth.”

“What happened to me?”

“You cried.” Crowley rest his chin atop Muriel’s head. “When sadness becomes too much, the Humans cry to relieve stress, and to alert other humans that they are sad so they can help. By hugging, for example. Or therapy. Lots of humans need theraphy because their brains can’t cope with existence. It’s a bit of a design flaw, actually.”

“I don’t like sadness.” Muriel whispered. “It reminds me of Heaven.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, when the Arch-Angels got angry.” They shivered. “I didn’t like it when they hit me.”

“Hit you?” Crowley tried to keep his voice level.

“Yeah, they’d hit my shoulder and it would hurt, like you do sometimes, but you don’t do it hard. Gabriel said it was a human custom, that was why they did it. He said it meant ‘try harder and be better’. I tried harder, I did! And I thought I was better, but I wasn’t better enough for them. They said it was a good thing I wasn’t needed very often.”

Crowley grit his teeth. How fucking dare they?  

“Well, Gabriel was shit with Human customs. Humans pat each other on the shoulder to say ‘well done’, or to show they they’re proud of them.”

“Is that what you mean when you do it then?” Muriel asked.

“…yes. But don’t tell anyone. Very unbecoming of a Demon, you know, to be proud of someone.”

“Pride is a sin.” Muriel blinked up at him. Crowley frowned down at them, and debated reminding them that Pride referred to a selfish kind of pride, but… well, they didn’t need to know that, did they?

“That it is… Well then, I’m very proud of you.”

“You are?”

“Absolutely.” Crowley smiled. “How’re you feeling now?”

“Happy.” Muriel smiled. “And warm.”

“You understand I wasn’t yelling at you, yeah?”

“I do now, yes.”

“Okay, good.” Crowley made no move to part.

“Can we still go for a stroll?” Muriel asked after a while. Crowley chuckled slightly, and finally released the smaller Angel.

“Sure, Petal. Let’s go now, shall we?” He offered his arm to Muriel, like he used to do for Aziraphale, and Muriel took it excitedly.

“This is nice!” Muriel beamed as they walked through St James Park. “I think I like this Human activity!”

“Maybe just call it an activity in public, yeah?”

“Okay!” Muriel would have skipped ahead if it weren’t for Crowley linking their arms together. Hell forbid the Demon lost the Angel. “Oh! What’s that?”

“Hm?” Crowley peered over his glasses. “That’s a duck.”

“A duck?” Muriel giggled. “That rhymes with fuck!”

“Definitely don’t say that word in public!” Crowley choked. “But yes, it does.”

“The duck is following you.” Muriel pointed to the animal, who was indeed following Crowley in the water. Crowley grumbled.

“Ngk… I have no frozen peas for you!”

“Oh, I can fix that!” Muriel pulled their arm from Crowley’s and miracled a bag of frozen peas into their arms. The sudden weight of it nearly pulled the Angel over, but Crowley grabbed their arm again with a grumble. “There! Now we have peas!”

“Wonderful. You can give them to the ducks then.” Crowley muttered, looking around. Honestly, he couldn’t think of anything worse than feeding the ducks without Aziraphale. He turned back to Muriel, just in time to watch them drop the whole bag, unopened, into the water with a huge splash that caused the water to jump back up and drench the Angel.

Crowley immediately doubled over with laughter.

“Was that right?” Muriel beamed at him, then frowned at his laughter and waited for him to respond.

It took a while for the Demon to catch his breath.

“Oh, not even close, Petal!” He managed to get out before cackling again. A quick miracle from the Demon had frozen peas bobbing to the surface. 

“Oh, I had to open it!” Muriel rolled their eyes at their own actions.

“M, you had to hold onto it!” Crowley laughed. “You only feed them a few at a time, and certainly not a whole bag!”

“Oh.” Muriel turned back to the ducks. “They’re fed now though!”

“That they are. You should dry yourself, you’re soaked.”

“Yes, this feels similar to a bath.” The Angel grinned at Crowley, who nodded. “I’d like to experience being soaked for a little while longer.”

“Sure. Come on, Petal, before you cause more havoc in the park.”

“Okay.” Muriel grabbed Crowley’s arm again before the Demon could complain about them being wet, but he didn’t snap about it. He didn’t think he could handle Muriel crying again. It had just about broken his heart the first time. 

Crowley thought back to when he’d pulled the small being close and learned the truth about how Heaven had treated them. He’d never have known it if the Angel wasn’t so open. They were brighter and sweeter than any being they’d met before, perhaps even Aziraphale, but behind it was so much fear and self-depreciation, and Muriel didn’t even know it was trauma. 

Heaven, he wasn’t going to be the one to explain it to them, but perhaps he could make sure it never happened again. Perhaps he could strut up there again and give them all a good smack and verbally berate them all. Or maybe he could kill any Arch-Angel who dared touch them, smite anyone who told them they were boring and not enough. Perhaps-

“You’re beautiful, tree!”

Crowley nearly toppled over in shock, and turned to Muriel.

“…What on Earth are you doing?”

“Oh! On Earth, I am yelling at plants!” 

That fucking smile was going to incorporate Crowley one day…

“…That’s not how you do it.”

“Oh?”

“First of all, you need to yell at your own plants, not public plants.” Crowley explained. “And you can’t be nice to them! You have to tell them they need to be better, that they aren’t good enough. If you tell them they’re useless and pathetic, then they’ll work harder.”

“Oh, like the Arch-Angels did to me in Heaven?” Muriel asked. Crowley faltered, stopping in his tracks.

Muriel just smiled at him, but it didn’t reach their eyes.

Who had taught them to fake a smile? Was that another thing they’d learned from him? Hell… 

“I mean… that’s just how I do it. I’m a Demon, I have to be mean sometimes… Maybe you could do it differently? You’re an Angel, after all.”

“Oh, okay! How should I do it?”

“The way you were doing it before was fine.” Crowley sighed, knowing Muriel was absolutely going to shout love and appreciation at his own plants once they returned to the shop. All his hard work, foiled…

But it wouldn’t be the first time, would it?

“What a beautiful bush you are!” 

Crowley smiled slightly. Bloody Angels…

Chapter Text

Crowley, having finished yelling at his plants for the evening, sauntered vaguely downstairs.

To be completely honest, his plants had been growing a lot better with Muriel’s additional ‘Afternoon Affirmations’, as they called it, but Crowley was not going to confess that to anyone, nor was he going to stop with his yelling.

However, during those times that Muriel tagged along, he found himself toning down his words and his volume.

Not that there was any reason for that. None at all. How dare anyone insinuate otherwise. He was simply… saving his energy for the evening abuse, that’s all. And if a plant that failed him ended up in St James Park, it was simply because he’d disowned it, and not because Muriel had gotten to him or anything.

Crowley froze on the bottom step, frowning at the sight of Muriel laying on their back in the middle of the shop floor with their eyes closed and their hair down, which they had discovered they quite liked. They looked quite peaceful, if it weren’t for them jolting every few seconds, probably to keep themself awake.

“M?”

“Hi, Mr Crowley.” Muriel kept their eyes closed. Crowley smirked in amusement as he leaned against the stair rail and crossed his arms.

“What’re you doing?”

“I believe I am sleeping. You told me once that it was one of your favourite human activities.” Muriel explained. “I cannot transform into a snake and curl up in the sun like you, so I am doing it the human way.”

“I sleep the human way too, you know?”

“I know, but sleeping the human way scares you.” 

Crowley faltered, then approached Muriel and gently kicked their leg with his foot until they opened their eyes.

“What do you mean by that, Petal?” He asked.

“Just, when you sleep the human way, you wake up and scream because it scares you.”

Ah, shit . He thought he’d hidden that.

With a sigh, Crowley moved to the other side of Muriel and lay himself down next to them. Muriel watched him curiously as he removed his glasses, but said nothing, just waited for the demon to speak. It took a while, but eventually Crowley decided to go about it educationally, rather than emotionally.

“Usually, when people sleep, they go through something called REM sleep. The brain is active during this stage, specifically the thalamus, so people can see and hear things in their sleep. Humans call this dreaming. Some dreams are good, some dreams are weird, and some dreams are memories. Some dreams are scary, though, and Humans call those nightmares.”

“Which do you have?”

“Both. Mostly nightmares, though.”

“But you’re not scared of anything.” Muriel whispered, and Crowley chuckled. Not a dark, sadistic sound, but a fond, smitten way.

“I wish that were true.”

“What’re you scared of, Mr Crowley?” Muriel asked, before suddenly wincing. “Sorry! That's one of those ‘too much’ questions, isn’t it?”

“It is… But I don’t mind answering my top three, as long as you keep it secret. Can’t have Hell knowing what I fear most, now, can I?” Crowley gently fist-bumped Muriel’s shoulder, earning a beaming smile.

“I promise to keep it a secret, and I can share mine too! That way, it’s fair, and you have… um… I’ve forgotten the word. You have something against me if I ever betray you.”

“Insurance?”

“Yes, I think so!” Muriel giggled, and extended their pinky, allowing Crowley to wrap his own pinky around it, holding them there.

“Right then. My top three fears. Ngk… First one, Falling. Second one, L*cifer. Third one… probably Gabriel actually.”

“But you did Fall…” Muriel whispered secretively. Crowley nodded.

“And it scared me.”

Well, to Heaven with the Educational approach.

“I’m scared of Gabriel too.” Muriel whispered. Crowley frowned.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“He in your top three?”

“No, Michael is though.” Muriel smiled, which only fuelled the anger that was sparking within Crowley. “I’m also scared of shouting, and of being alone. I think that’s my three.”

“Why Michael?” Crowley asked, but Muriel didn’t answer, so the demon gave up and gestured to their still-entwined pinkies. “Come on then, we promised to keep a secret, gotta seal it.”

Muriel beamed as they pressed their thumb against Crowley’s, pinkies still linked, to seal their promise.

“You’re sleeping wrong, by the way.” Crowley snorted as he sat himself up. Muriel frowned, and pushed themself upright too.

“What do you mean?”

“You have to let your corporeal form lose consciousness. Try lying on the sofa instead of on the floor. More comfortable that way. And you know that feeling where you think you’re separating from the world?”

“Yeah?”

“You gotta let that happen. That’s the sleep.” Crowley explained. Muriel nodded, making mental notes.

“Is there anything else?”

“Well, there’s things to help humans sleep. Like warm milk, or hot chocolate. Why don’t you lie down and I’ll get you a drink, alright?”

“Oh, yes please, Mr Crowley!” Muriel beamed and scrambled upright, before offering a hand to Crowley, who took it gratefully. They parted ways, Muriel moving to lie down on the sofa, and Crowley striding into the kitchen area of the bookshop. 

By the time Crowley returned with a hot drink, the smaller angel had successfully mastered sleeping ‘the human way’ with their arms wrapped around a cushion, hugging it tight. Crowley thought about how he should introduce Muriel to plush toys next, and wondered why he hadn’t done so already, as he put the hot chocolate on a nearby table and used a small miracle to keep it warm for when the angel awoke.

And if he leaned down to place a soft kiss atop the angel’s forehead before whispering ‘Sweet dreams’, it was just to give Muriel the whole human experience, and nothing more.

4 hours into Muriel’s nap found Crowley sprawled on the armchair (which no one possessed at the moment) with his legs hung over one arm and his wings draped over the other. The blinds were down and Muriel was asleep, so why shouldn’t he relax his ‘glamour’ and let his wings out? It was an effort to keep those damn things in the ethereal plane, so he wasn’t going to do it if he didn’t have to.

Crowley was half-way through one of several James Bond graphic novels when a soft noise caught his attention. He glanced up at Muriel, who was still curled up on the sofa, cushion pulled tight to their chest, before looking around the room for the source. 

Perhaps a rat had broken in that he could eat in his serpent form…

There it was again. The sound was accompanied with a shuffle from the sofa opposite. Crowley’s heart froze over in fear.

“M?”

The demon held his breath, yellow eyes never leaving Muriel, waiting for any kind of response from the Angel. 

A choked sob split the air between them as the small angel curled tighter around the cushion, their face contorting with discomfort, causing Crowley to practically toss the book behind him in his haste to get to their side, his hands hovering over Muriel’s sleeping form as he realized he couldn’t actually help Muriel.

Crowley was a demon. Where Aziraphale, being the Angel he was, could implant pleasant thoughts and dreams within a person with a wave of his hand, Crowley could only manifest bad thoughts and nightmares. He would only make it worse if he tried.

He could, however, hear the desire that practically poured from their mind.

‘Please don’t leave! I’ll be good! You can yell at me! You can hurt me! Just- Don’t go! Please! Stay! Don’t leave me alone again! You can do anything to me! I don’t want to be alone! I can’t- I can’t be alone again! Please! I’ll do anything you want me to! Don’t leave me! Crowley!’

“I’m here, Petal.” Crowley hissed protectively at Muriel’s plea for him to help them, every instinct in him screaming to protect . 

Was this how Aziraphale felt as a Principality?

Giving away a flaming sword didn’t seem so funny now…

This was Michael’s fault, Crowley was sure of it. Whatever she’d done to Muriel, she needed to pay. He was going to kill Michael, he decided. He’d smite her with Aziraphale’s flaming sword, he’d discorporate her in front of every other Arch-Angel, he’d-

Another whimper had Crowley snarling, his wings stretching out in a protective manner and separating Muriel from outside threats. But that wasn’t the problem, was it? The threats were inside. 

He couldn’t make good dreams for Muriel, couldn’t help them in that way. What could he do? Freeze time? No, that would only lock them in their torment longer. What a useless ability! He was a demon, for Chri- for Sat- For Go- Oh, for someone’s sake! He couldn’t do good; He could only damage, degrade and destroy-

Destroy?

Oh, yes, he could do that!

Crowley centered his attention on Muriel’s desires, and traced them back to the nightmare. Once he had located it, he crushed it viciously as though it were a note that had offended him. Muriel shot up almost instantly, a terrified shriek escaping them as Crowley quickly moved in to comfort them, holding them by the shoulders.

“Shh, Petal, you’re alright…”

“N-no, I- You-”

“Shh, don’t say anything, don’t even think, just… Just focus on me, okay? Like when you thought I yelled at you. Do that.”

“O-okay…” Muriel nodded rapidly, before throwing themself at Crowley. He quickly realized that they had taken his words a little too literally, and assumed they had to do exactly what they’d done during the yelling incident, which was to hug.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t very comfortable with Crowley on the floor and Muriel on the sofa, so he moved away to reposition himself, causing a sound so heartbreaking that he almost aborted his actions. He never ever wanted to hear that sound again, let alone cause it. He quickly settled on the sofa next to Muriel and opened his arms for a proper hug. Muriel gladly fell into them, Crowley’s wings moving automatically to protectively shelter the Angel.

The two sat like that for a while, Crowley cradling Muriel and whispering sweet nothings, while Muriel worked their way through their second panic attack since arriving on Earth. Eventually, when Muriel had gotten a hold of their emotions, they spoke up:

“I don’t understand. You left me.” Muriel whispered. “I was alone again, I thought… But you’re here… Aren’t you? What happened?”

Crowley’s heart leapt to his throat. He’d assumed Muriel had called out to him to help them, when actually, they’d been begging him to stay in their nightmare.

To the extent that they’d offered harm to themselves as an incentive.

“You had a nightmare. I didn’t leave you.” Crowley said simply. “I have no intention of leaving you.”

“Are you sure?” Muriel whispered. “You don’t think I’m a waste of time and space? Because that’s why they don’t want me back; Michael, and the others. They think I’m stupid, and I guess I am, but not as stupid as they think. I know they hate me and forget I exist. I know they kept me down here on Earth because it keeps me out of the way-”

“-Muriel-”

“-And I don’t have much to offer you and I’m wasting all your time trying to be more human when you have so many other things you could be doing and I’m not even offering you anything in return! Angel’s aren’t supposed to be selfish they’re supposed to be a helpful and kind and I’m just not-”

“-M-”

“-and I’m really, really sorry, Mr Crowley, I truly am. I didn’t think I was being that annoying, I’ve been trying to be good, I swear, you can punish me for it, I completely understand-”

“Muriel!” Crowley snarled as his wings stretched out, startling the Angel out of their self-depreciative spiral. “M, stop it.” He dropped to a whisper, lowering his wings slightly. “Those thoughts you think I have of you? They’re all echoes of Michael and Gabriel and the others. None of them are my thoughts. They’ve brainwashed you so much that you don’t believe anyone can have a nice thought about you.”

“But-”

“I’m not done. Shush.” Crowley snarled. “I will not leave you, and I will not hurt you. Not physically, not emotionally. I will not allow any harm to come to you while I am here. Do you understand?”

Muriel didn’t react.

“Do you understand, Muriel?”

“N-not really…” Muriel whispered, their eyes welling with tears. “I’m sorry-”

“Shh, it’s alright…” Crowley sighed, pulling them closer and resting his chin atop their head. His wings twitched slightly as they maintained their protective barrier around them both. Muriel sniffled, bringing their hand up to wipe at their eyes. “Fucking Arch-Angels… Who do they think they are…? Assholes. The lot of them.”

“Mr Crowley-”

“You didn’t deserve what Heaven did to you.” Crowley told them simply. Muriel blinked up at him, and Crowley looked down at them. “You didn’t deserve to be alone, you didn’t deserve to be hurt in any way, and you didn’t deserve to be yelled at. If you weren’t good enough for them, then that’s their own fault. They were supposed to teach you, to train you, to come to you more than once every few hundred years. They didn’t give you any opportunities to be ‘good enough’. They didn’t come to you often enough to see how ‘good enough’ you really are. You are not the problem, Muriel. Heaven is. No matter what you’re supposed to think of Heaven, they were the ones who were in the wrong. Not you. And for that reason, I will not punish you. I will not harm you, and I will not allow you to harm yourself like that again. Do you understand now?”

“You really think that?” Muriel’s voice wavered dangerously.

“I mean that.” Crowley affirmed. “You did not deserve what happened to you up there.”

“Do… do I deserve this?” Muriel asked as they curled up into Crowley like a child would their Mother, and looked at Crowley’s wings instead. “Do I deserve this kindness?”

And Crowley wanted to spit that he wasn’t kind . That he was a demon, for someone’s sake! But Muriel needed to know they weren’t alone, needed to know that they were wronged by Heaven. He couldn’t ruin this now…

“You deserve much more than this.” Crowley settled on. At least he wasn’t admitting he was being kind. Which he wasn’t.

“And I deserve you?” Muriel yawned, reaching out to smooth a feather that had twisted awkwardly when Crowley had been lounging. The touch startled Crowley, but he tried not to show it. Muriel had only been trying to help, as was their nature.

How dare Heaven make them feel selfish?

“You deserve the stars, Petal.”

“The stars? Really?” Muriel was quickly losing the battle of consciousness. Crowley smiled at the thought of making a star for Muriel, or a galaxy. If only he could… He made a mental note to show Muriel the stars. Just because he couldn’t see them with his snake eyes, it didn’t mean he should withhold them from Muriel. 

“The universe.” Crowley whispered. “I’ll take you out of the city, away from the pollution, and we can see them: the stars, and the planets, maybe some nebulas. How does that sound?”

Muriel didn’t respond, not that Crowley had expected them to. He gently lowered his wings, allowing one to fall over Muriel’s sleeping form like a blanket. He didn’t dare move. What kind of asshole would move with a sweet little Angel curled up asleep against them? Not him.

No, Crowley remained on the sofa with Muriel, thinking of all the different ways he could dramatically show up to Heaven and smite the Arch-Angels.

And if he fell asleep too, neither he nor Muriel mentioned it.

Chapter Text

“What’s that?”

Crowley looked up from the armchair to find Muriel staring at him hopefully. Yellow eyes glanced down at the very expensive bottle of red wine that Crowley had swiped from Aziraphale’s wine rack, then at the glass in his hand, and grimaced.

The Ange- Arch-Angel owed him one anyways.

“It’s spicy, you won’t like it.” He tried. It failed.

“Can I try it anyway?” Muriel asked. “Please?”

“No. You can’t drink this stuff. It’s alcohol, it’s not for kids. Or Angels. Or kid Angels.”

“Please, Mr Crowley?” Muriel tilted their head in that way that they knew usually had Crowley giving in, but he stood firm. Well, sat firm.

“No.”

“Okay. Maybe Nina will let me-”

“Nina?!” Crowley cried. “You’d go to Nina to learn how to drink?”

“I came to you. You said no.” Muriel blinked in confusion. Crowley thought for a moment.

“Ah. Right.” The demon sighed, and held up the glass. “One sip. That’s it.”

Muriel’s face lit up and that almost made it worth giving in. But no. It was the look of disgust that formed on the Angel’s face once they took a sip. That was what made it truly worth it.

“Nice?” Crowley snorted.

“No!” Muriel couldn’t pass the glass back fast enough. “Oh, that’s- that’s… repugnant!”

“That’s a new word!” Crowley peered over his sunglasses. “You’ve been reading again, haven’t you?”

“A little. Oh! Why would you drink that?!”

“I like it.” Crowley shrugged. “And now we know that you don’t. Add that to the list of dislikes. What else was on that list again?”

Muriel miracled their trusty reporter's book into their hands and flicked through a few pages before scribbling on a page.

“On the food list? Tea, licorice, mushrooms, tomatoes, any kind of animal, and cinnamon rolls.”

“Listen, when I said you eating a cinnamon roll was cannibalism, I was joking.”

“I don’t want to be a cannibal, Mr Crowley.” Muriel’s tone was serious as they placed their book down on the table next to the bottle of wine. Crowley sighed, and downed the rest of the glass. “Oh! You have your hair long!” Muriel suddenly noticed.

Crowley had, indeed, shifted the style and length of his hair multiple times in the mirror before deciding to raid Aziraphale’s wine rack. He’d settled on a longer style, wanting to change his appearance somewhat as though it would help him forget about Aziraphale.

It didn’t.

“Maggie taught me how to braid my hair, see?” Muriel spun slowly so Crowley could see the simple plait that trailed down to the middle of their shoulders, tied off with a baby blue ribbon. Huh… Once facing Crowley again, Muriel asked: “Can I do yours? Please?” They clasped their hands together, as though in prayer, as they pulled their best puppy-dog-eyes.

Crowley sighed.

“Fine! But don’t expect me to like it.”

“Yay! Thank you!” Muriel quickly hurried over to the sofa and sat down, before turning to Crowley, who remained in the armchair. “Oh! Please sit on the floor in front of the sofa so I can reach.”

“Only if I can bring my wine with me.” Crowley muttered. Muriel nodded, so Crowley did as he was instructed, settling the bottle of wine in his lap. 

Crowley had to give credit to Muriel, they were very gentle with his hair. He’d never let anyone touch his hair before, but he didn’t know how to do plaits, and… well, he liked Muriels. And… actually… This feeling wasn’t too bad either. It was soothing. Calming. Safe.

“Your hair is very soft, Mr Crowley.” Muriel whispered. “And curly.”

“Crowley. How many times? It’s just Crowley.” The demon muttered, taking a swig from the bottle.

“I was thinking I should change my hair.” Muriel thought aloud. Crowley made a sound of approval, leaning his head back until it rested on Muriel’s knee.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah! But I’m a bit nervous about it.” Muriel combed Crowley’s hair with their fingers. “I don’t know what style I want first… I’d like to try long hair, but I’d also like to try short hair. Or maybe change the colour!”

“I did notice the blue.” Crowley recalled the bow.

“Do you like it?” The Angel asked as they seperated small groups of Crowley’s hair. “I saw the colour on the cover of Little Women and I really liked it. Maggie found me a bow and said I could keep it!”

“Lucky you.” Crowley closed his eyes, basking in the care Muriel was taking to braid his hair. It seemed like they were making a large braid starting from one side of his head, and Crowley was quite excited to see the results. Would they wrap it around? Or maybe thread more hair into it to bring it over his shoulder?

“I think blue might be my favourite colour. But I don’t know yet.”

“You’ve got time to figure it out.” Crowley mumbled. Muriel smiled, not that Crowley saw.

“Can we see the stars tonight?” Muriel asked suddenly. Crowley hummed. “Just… you said you would, after that… um, that dream.”

“Sure, Petal.” The Demon yawned. “We’ll go later.”

“Okay. Mr Crowley, are you alright?” Muriel asked, but received no response, for the Demon had fallen asleep. Muriel just smiled and continued with their braiding.

When Crowley awoke, Muriel was still gently styling his hair. Or playing with it. He couldn’t really tell. He figured he’d just dozed off for 5 minutes, and sat himself up.

“Oh! You’re awake! I finished ages ago, but I didn’t want to wake you. I put your gross drink on the table.”

Ah… There goes the 5 minute theory.

“So… how long was I asleep?”

“Um. Well… It was evening when you sat down, and it’s now midnight… So about seven hours?”

“Seven hours?!” Crowley sat himself up. He felt amazingly sober. “You’ve been sitting there for seven hours?”

“So have you!” Muriel argued. “But yes, and it was plenty of time to do your hair! Do you want to see?” Muriel beamed. Crowley was definitely curious. What did a seven hour hairstyle look like? Muriel quickly took Crowley by the hand and pulled him up the stairs and to the bathroom, where there was a large mirror over the sink. 

Crowley froze when he saw himself.

His hair had been left down, allowing the curls to fall naturally around his shoulders. The sides of his hair had been braided loosely and wrapped around the back of his head to meet in the middle, where a line of different sized silver star pins kept the braids in place. Amongst the strands of hair were silver threads that sparkled in the light with the slightest of movements. Silver gems in circular and star shapes decorated his hair as though he were a walking night sky. 

“Do you like it?” Muriel asked, twiddling their thumbs, their excitement now nowhere to be seen. “I… Well, there was a book about the stars. I thought maybe-”

Crowley cut them off by grabbing the Angel by the shoulder and pulling them in for a hug. Muriel stiffened slightly, until the demon spoke up.

“Words aren’t my strong suit.” He whispered, pressing his cheek to Muriel’s as he held them tight. “But no-one has… Ngk… Stuff like this is… I’ve not… Ugh.” Crowley gave up with words, and instead, pressed a kiss to Muriel’s temple. “Did you understand that?”

“I think that meant ‘thank you’ and ‘no-one has done this before’.”

“No-one has done anything close.” Crowley sighed, rocking them a little. “I’m… Well… Where were you 6000 years ago?”

“In my office, waiting for 300 years to pass so I had someone to talk to for five minutes?”

“You’re wasted up there. You’re so much more than they made you feel.”

“I think you look beautiful… Do you feel beautiful?” Muriel asked. Crowley pulled away to face them, his chest aching at the authenticity of the question. Desires spilled from the small Angel’s mind:

I want you to be happy. You make me happy. I love you, why can’t you love you too? Please love yourself. I want you to see, the same way I do. I want you to love you. I want you to be happy.

Crowley wanted to vomit a little. The emotions from this Angel was overwhelming, and unlike Aziraphale’s; This was pure adoration and respect for Crowley, and hope that the demon would see himself the way they do. He glanced back at the mirror, and an echo of who he once was stared back at him.

“I do feel beautiful.” Crowley held back a smile. He couldn’t slip up too much, he was still a demon after all. “You’ve made a galaxy, Petal.”

Muriel had made a galaxy. Just like he had done.

“Now you can match the stars in the sky!” Muriel beamed. “You did say we could.” Crowley smiled at them.

May as well.

“Did I ever tell you about the nebula I made?” Crowley asked, breaking the silence that lingered around the two of them, who both lay on the grass of St James’ Park looking up at the night sky. Stars shone brightly, decorating the whole sky in clusters and constellations.

It was a miracle that the pollution levels were non-existent tonight.

“You made a nebula? A real one?” Muriel propped themself up on an elbow to face Crowley. “One of those colourful gas clouds with the stars?”

“Yup, I did. Aziraphale was there, actually. He wasn’t very happy about it, I don’t think. He said he liked it, but told me they were going to destroy it in the same breath. I was so proud of it too. Nothing like a bit of Heaven to knock you off your high horse, huh?”

“For what I’ve heard, you don’t need Heaven to fall off a horse, Mr Crowley.” Muriel retorted, then paled and searched Crowley’s dumbstruck expression nervously.

The demon let out a sudden bark of laughter and Muriel relaxed visibly.

“You’ve spent too much time with Nina.” Crowley chuckled as the Angel lay back down. “You’ve gotten cheeky.”

“Nina says I spend too much time with you. She says I’ve gotten sassy.”

“Did you ask for death when you went to her cafe this morning?”

“I did!”

“That’s my Petal.” Crowley reached over, gently fist-bumping their shoulder. Muriel beamed. 

“The stars are so pretty, Crowley. And there’s so many of them.” Crowley smiled at the drop of the ‘Mr’ before his name. He hoped it stuck. “Where are the planets?”

Ah. There it was. The painful reminder.

“Oh. You might need Nina or Maggie to point those out for you, I’m afraid.”

“But you’re here. You can show me.”

“I can’t see them, M.” Crowley confessed. Muriel blinked.

“The planets?”

“The stars.” Crowley bit his lip.

“What? Any of them?” The Angel sat up this time, and Crowley turned his head to avoid them. “But… But you love the stars. You said so!”

“I did, and I still do. I just can’t see them anymore.”

“But- why not?!” Muriel was growing angry, Crowley realized in alarm; they hadn’t yet experienced that emotion. They had no idea how to manage it.

“It’s alright, Petal. It’s part of the Fall. Everything far away is blurry to me. Snake eyes, and all that.”

“How could they- Wasn’t Falling enough?!” Muriel cried, their eyes burning. 

“Apparently not.”

“That’s- That’s not fair!”

“I know!” Crowley snapped, startling the smaller being. “I know! It’s not fair! I’ll never see the stars again because I asked stupid questions! That’s why-!” That’s why you doing my hair means so much to me. “Ngk… That’s why I was… Why I like what you’ve done to my hair.”

“Because you can see it? Up close?” Muriel whispered, their voice wavering.

“Yes.” Crowley sighed. “It’s also why I have all those books. Nothing like the real thing, but it’s better than nothing.”

It was silent for a moment, albeit the crickets and occasional owl hooting and fox screeching in the distance. Muriel suddenly slapped their hand onto Crowley’s forehead.

“Ow? What-?”

“Close your eyes.” Muriel hissed. Crowley didn’t dare argue with them, not with that tone. Muriel closed their own eyes and focused all their power into a miracle, projecting their thoughts to Crowley before blinking up and looking at the sky. Crowley gasped, his hand suddenly coming up to clutch at Muriel’s arm.

“Fuckin- M, what are you-? How are you-?”

“I’m an angel, so I can share good thoughts and dreams. You should be seeing what I can see.”

“I am- Fucking hell, M-” Crowley’s voice cracked as he gripped Muriel’s arm tighter. “That’s Mars, over there. Point to that really bright star.”

“There?” Muriel pointed. Crowley nodded.

“Yup, now that reddish star next to it? That’s Mars.”

“This one?”

“That’s the one. That’s a planet.” Crowley choked a sob, bringing their free arm up to drape it over his eyes. “That’s Mars.”

“Did I upset you?” Muriel whispered. “I’m sorry, I was just trying to-”

“I know you were.” Crowley pulled at Muriel’s arm, lifting their hand from his forehead and severing the connection. “I know you were. It’s just… It’s a lot to take in.”

“Oh, like when I thought you yelled at me and it was all a bit too much?” Muriel asked. Crowley nodded, sitting himself up and wiping his eyes. Muriel shuffled closer to him. 

“I never thought I’d ever see the stars again. Not like that… Not so clearly. Maybe, when… When it’s not so much, would you still…?”

“Of course!” Muriel beamed despite the pain in their eyes. Crowley could feel the desires pouring from their mind again.

I want you to be happy. I love you. I wish I could help you be happy. You deserve to be happy.

“I’m gonna say this once, because I’m emotional, and I’m gonna deny saying it if you ever bring it up: You have made me very happy.”

“You mean that?” Muriel’s face lit up as Crowley nodded. “Oh, I’m so glad!”

“If you give me a minute, I’ll show you where the constellations are.” Crowley offered. Muriel nodded eagerly.

Crowley thought back to his wishes to make a star or a galaxy for Muriel, thought about how he couldn’t do that, only for Muriel to do it twice in the same day. 

What the hell had he done to deserve this bloody Angel?

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?”

Chapter Text

“Why the fuck did you do this?”

“Crowley-”

“There is no excuse for what you’ve done!” Crowley scowled, cutting Aziraphale off.

“Let me explain-”

“I refuse to believe anything you say can make this right!”

“Please!” The Supreme Arch-Angel exasperated. “Crowley, this is ridiculous!”

“It is, isn’t it?!” Crowley snarled, stepping closer to Aziraphale, who swallowed thickly and took a step back. “Give me one reason why I should listen to you!”

“He deserves to be heard.” Crowley and Aziraphale turned to Muriel, who’d pushed themself up. Crowley’s wings faltered and folded back as he strode to their side, gently pushing them back down.

“Lay down and rest, Petal.”

“Please listen to him.” Muriel whispered. Crowley shook his head, smoothing Muriel’s hair back with his hand.

“I’m not letting him convince you that you deserved this, M.”

“Crowley, I-” Aziraphale cut off as soon as Crowley stood and faced him again.

“You have 10 seconds to get out this bookshop.”

“ My bookshop!”

“Oh? So what happened to ‘nothing lasts forever’, Aziraphale! When I begged you to stay here, when I poured my heart out to you! Wasn’t your bookshop then, but now it is?”

“I-I just-”

“3 seconds!”

“Crowley, please, just listen to me!”

“Get. Out!”

“I shan’t!” Aziraphale stamped his foot to make his point.

“Then I’ll make you!”

“Stop it!”

Muriel was suddenly standing between them, but not for very long. Pain stabbed at their back as the hellfire from their wings met their skin, causing them to lose their composure and stumble backwards, straight into Aziraphale.

“Muriel, sweetheart!” Aziraphale cried, dropping to his knees as the fallen Angel collapsed into him. “You must rest!”

Crowley’s eyes were blazing, his corporeal form smoking and he clenched his fists and his jaw. 

“No-!” Muriel cried. “N-not until- Oh, it hurts! C-Crowley-!”

“Here. I’m here.” Crowley growled protectively, taking one of their hands in both of his. “I’m here.”

Muriel whimpered as they turned into Aziraphale, seeking comfort from him. Crowley’s eyes softened at the sight, and he glanced up at Aziraphale, torn between tearing Muriel from the Arch-Angel’s hold and protecting them himself, or allowing whatever this was that Muriel clearly needed.

“Close your eyes, Muriel…” The Angel reached up with one hand, pressing it to Muriel’s forehead. “Think about all those fond memories you have here on Earth: Your first hot chocolate, all the hidden books that you found in all those obscure places, and breakfast. Oh, and those hugs you love so much, and the first time you fed the ducks, and those plants you talked to. Remember the stars, and the planets and constellations you saw, and when you braided Crowley’s hair so beautifully.”

Crowley watched the scene unfold in confusion as Muriel’s trembling died down a little, safe in Aziraphale’s hold.

“Think about the time you first cursed, and the first time you tried tea and alcohol. Think about all those memories you’ve shared with Crowley. He’s here, he’ll look after you, just as you’ve looked after him. He’s here, just like he promised.”

The Angel held Muriel through the pain they were evidently going through, whispering sweet nothings to them in an attempt to distract them. Nothing about the scene screamed malice or ill-intent. Crowley’s emotions swirled in a tangled mess of feelings. He’d stopped smoking, at least.

“How did you know about all of that?” Crowley frowned, and Aziraphale sighed.

“It’s not their fault. Metatron asked me to ask them to spy on you, but instead, I asked for ‘reports’ on the things you’ve taught them. I’ve loved reading them…” Aziraphale sighed happily, looking up at Crowley with tear-filled now-purple eyes. “I’ve loved reading about you being more you again… I was so afraid I’d hurt you irreparably.”

“What did you do?” He asked, softer this time.  

“Metatron told me I had to summon Muriel to Heaven, and said he had a special mission for them… So I summoned them, and awaited their arrival with Metatron.” Aziraphale began:

“Mr Aziraphale!” 

Muriel was beaming as Michael, Uriel and Saraqael led them into the large white space.

“Hello, my dear!” Aziraphale smiled just as brightly. “How have you been?”

“Very good, actually!”

“Wonderful.” Aziraphale smiled. “Metatron, if you’d be so kind, what is this meeting in aid of?”

“Well. We’ve been discussing Muriel’s use to Heaven.” Metatron turned to Michael, who nodded. “And it’s been decided that we’re going to remove them from the book of life.”

“-What…?”

“-You’ve what?” Muriel and Aziraphale both turned to Metatron with the same look of horror on their faces. “You can’t make this decision without me!”

“We can. Majority vote. They did bring the traitor up here.” Michael pointed out. “They could have shown him anything. We were lucky that they didn’t show him anything that Hell could use against us in war!”

“They helped find Gabriel!” Aziraphale argued. “They’re the only reason we found him in the first place! You must reconsider!”

“Muriel has been a waste of space since they were assigned as 37th order scrivener.” Michael scoffed. The other angels nodded. “The only reason no-one erased them earlier was because they were out of the way.”

“Now, you see, they’re all buddy-buddy with The Traitor.” Metatron continued. “They could bring him up here again! We can’t allow that influence to continue. It’s best to remove them completely, that way they will have never met Crowley.”

“But then you wouldn’t have found Gabriel. If Muriel and Crowley don’t figure out where Gabriel hid his memories, then… Well, war would break out! I threw my halo, Heaven and Hell would be at war!”

“And Heaven would win.” Metatron beamed. “Uriel, fetch the book.”

“You can’t do this! I won’t allow it!” Aziraphale cried as Uriel walked away.

“Then perhaps I should follow through with my previous idea of removing Crowley’s name instead, hmm?” Metatron raised an eyebrow at Aziraphale, who shrank back.

“It’s okay.” Muriel whispered. “At least I’m not fallen. Crowley would be so upset if that happened.” 

Aziraphale blinked, looking up at them in shock. Muriel couldn’t be suggesting… could they?

“He’d probably forget about accepting the Duke Of Hell position if he were stuck with me.” They lied, hoping they wouldn’t notice. “It would probably scare him too. And I probably wouldn’t be a very good demon.” Muriel laughed nervously. “I’d probably let all the Angels into Hell and show them everything. How silly would that be? And then Crowley couldn’t use me to spy on Heaven. Oh, that would be an awful idea.”

Metatron and Michael exchanged a look.

“It… would mean that Gabriel would still be found. No war would break out, and we could move on with the Second Coming.” Aziraphale whispered, as though considering the ‘idea’.  He tried to speak to the others in a way that might change their minds. “I’ve had a lot of questions about the Second Coming from the other Angels. If we did go through with a Fall, it might discourage those who are starting to question us.”

“They’d be out of here.” Michael nodded as Uriel returned, book in hand. “Out of our hair, so to speak. Hell’s problem.”

“Are we really willing to give Hell another soldier?” Saraquel asked. 

“Soldier?” Michael laughed. “Muriel is a disaster waiting to happen. They’re no threat to us.”

“And if we did remove them, what else would come undone? We don’t know what else Muriel was involved in. And what about testing the Faith of Job?” Aziraphale asked. “Muriel was part of that. Would that be undone?”

“A fall would be tidier.” Metatron thought aloud. “And if it burns Crowley in the process…”

“Oh, he’d be so upset. He’d probably blame himself for making me Fall. He’d never accept my forgiveness, it would hurt him so much… Oh, what a horrible idea. I shouldn’t have said anything!”

“You always were a dim little thing, weren’t you?” Metatron laughed. Muriel did their best to look distraught.

“Muriel, 37th Order Scrivner of Heaven.” Aziraphale stepped forward. He had to be the one to do this, before anyone changed their mind. “I hereby revoke your title, and cast you down to Hell.”

“Oh, no, you can’t!” Muriel cried. “Please don’t!”

Aziraphale said nothing, just waved his hand in a cross formation.

The ground below Muriel opened up and swallowed them whole.

“I-I didn’t have a choice until Muriel gave me one. I tried to come down to warn you, Crowley.” Aziraphale whispered. “I thought maybe you could stop them reaching Hell, save them from that at least… I just… Metatron wasn’t very happy that I’d taken it upon myself to cast Muriel out without a majority vote; I couldn’t get away from him in time. I-I’m so sorry…” Aziraphale choked back a sob. 

Crowley turned to Muriel, still curled up in Aziraphale’s hold. 

They seemed to be breathing easier now, their tears now dried and no longer being replaced with more tears. The burns on their face and arms were starting the first stage of healing. Muriel seemed more anxious than in pain. Their wings were now fully black, not a trace of hellfire to be seen. Crowley himself breathed a little easier too.

“…This was your idea, Petal?” Crowley asked softly, brushing his thumbs over the back of Muriel’s hand. Muriel nodded.

“It wasn’t Mr Aziraphale’s fault, please don’t be mad at him… I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t want to be erased. Not anymore.”

“Anymore?” Crowley asked. 

“Not after you.” Muriel whispered. “You made me like myself again. You make me feel like you want me here, like it’s okay that I exist. I’m sorry if I was wrong.”

“No.” Crowley shook his head firmly. He reached up, taking Muriel’s face in his hands so they understood how serious he was being. “You’re not wrong. Not at all. I-” Crowley glanced up at Aziraphale, memories of the last time he’d been so open flooding his mind, before sighing and turning back to Muriel. “You’re so clever, you know that? Smart little thing, you are… I’m happy that you’re here, that you chose me to teach you about humans and the Earth. I love you, M. You’re… Well, I guess you’re my kid.”

“I love you too, Mr Crowley.”

“Oh, don’t start that again!” Crowley smirked, letting go of them. “It’s Crowley.” He finally turned back to Aziraphale, who was trying to wipe away his tears with one hand. The smirk fell. “Angel-”

“Metatron only wanted me to be Supreme Arch-Angel because he knows I’m pathetic and can’t fight back against him. I know that now. And when he threatened to remove you from the book of life… I love you so much, Crowley, I couldn’t… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Crowley…” Aziraphale whispered. “I don’t expect your forgiveness. What I’ve done to you, to both of you, is unforgivable.”

“What do you think, Petal?” Crowley turned to Muriel, opening his arms. Muriel transferred from Aziraphale’s lap to Crowley’s. “Should we forgive him?”

“Hm…” Muriel pretended to think for a moment before looking up at Crowley. “Well, we do love him. It would be the right thing to do.”

“Muriel, you’re an awful demon.” Crowley joked. 

“I did say so in Heaven!”

“That you did.” Aziraphale whispered sadly. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t be. I’m very happy. I forgive you, and I don’t think you’re pathetic.” Muriel beamed at him. 

“Thank you, sweetheart…” Aziraphale forced a smile back.

“Ngk…” Crowley sighed, bowing his head, before looking up at the Angel. “I forgive you too, Angel.”

“You- You do? But… why?” Aziraphale whispered. “Crowley, I threw away everything we had. I’ve said so many hurtful things to you because I was so scared you were going to say something that would stop me from leaving. I let you believe I believed them. I hurt you over fighting back against Metatron. I’ve… Crowley, I’ve been awful to you, I can’t expect to be forgiven for that!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t think 6000 years of friendship is worth throwing away over a few words said. That doesn’t mean I’m not upset, because I am. I just… I know you, Angel. You’re… Well. You’re you. And I love you. And I can’t stop that. And… I know you’d rather I was the Angel I used to be-”

“No.” Aziraphale shook his head. “No. I love you. Who you were, and who you are, and who you will be. If you’ll allow me to.”

“Maybe, once this is all over.” Crowley smiled slightly. “We can sod off to Alpha Centuri. You too, Muriel. You’d like it there.”

“I was thinking somewhere more… on Earth.” Aziraphale chuckled, his voice thick with emotion. “A little cottage in the middle of nowhere. No pollution so we can always see the stars. We’ll get you the best telescope money can buy so you can see the stars up close.”

“Sounds good. I’ll stick it in the diary after ‘Second Coming’, shall I?”

“I don’t know how long I can put that off for…” Aziraphale sighed. “But if we make it past the Second Coming, I would love to love you.”

“I’d love to love you too.” Crowley nodded.

“I need to go back before someone comes looking. I… I’m very sorry for how things happened.”

“We forgive you.” Muriel and Crowley both told him. Aziraphale smiled, before waving his hand and disappearing.

“You feeling any better?” Crowley asked after a moment. Muriel leaned back into the demon, looking up at him. Crowley looked down.

“Yes. You caught me.”

“Well, the sulfur pit is the worst part. Wasn’t going to let you go through that alone.”

“You mean… You didn’t know if you’d be dragged to Hell with me?” Muriel asked. Crowley shrugged. “You would have suffered another Fall for me?”

“Look, M, I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t really think about it… I just didn’t want you to be alone. Being alone…” Crowley trailed off, but Muriel understood.

“You’re not afraid of Falling, not really. You’re afraid of suffering alone.”

“Same as you.” Crowley forced a smile. “Well. I guess I should formally invite you to join my side.”

“Your side?”

“Well. Our side. I don’t work for Hell, not really. They leave me alone now. And since you didn’t reach Hell, they probably don’t even know you’re a demon, so they’ll probably leave you alone too. We can work for Earth, for the good of mankind. Stand on a neutral ground: Neither Heaven nor Hell. What do you say?”

“Us two?”

“Us two. Plus Aziraphale, when he stops being a loser.”

“He’s not a loser.” Muriel lightly scolded. “I’d like to join your side.”

“Our side.” Crowley smiled. “And now that you’re technically a demon, I can teach you to use your new abilities.”

“Oh, yes! I’d like to know how to change into my animal aspect.”

“All in good time, Petal.” Crowley chuckled, resting his chin atop their head. “Let’s just recover for now, okay?”

“Okay.” 

A minute passed.

“You promised me ice-cream.” Muriel peered up at the demon again. Crowley broke into laughter.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go get ice-cream then…”