For A Thousand Years Part 11
There was no searching for the angel this time. Crowley had managed to go eight hundred years without wanting to look. He found himself still very angry at Arthur. He just focused on his work and got the tempting done that needed to be done. Got the little irritations that caused a lot of people to be very angry under way. And right as he felt like he could handle seeing his angel again, the plague happened.
He wasn't supposed to be helping. The plague was something that Hell would rejoice over. The humans doing things to themselves and ending up in Hell because of it. But he couldn't just stand by and watch thousands upon thousands of humans die simply because of dirty living situations. Most of them had no control over it. And then there were the kids. There was no way in Heaven or Hell that Crowley could just stand by and watch as all those kids died of this stupid illness.
Crowley would go through the worst parts of London with the highest infection rates and somehow, miraculously, all the children would survive. Well, most of them. Crowley couldn't get to every single child before it was too late and it seriously broke his heart. He just stood over a crib, crying over a baby that he'd been to late to save. The parents had been dead for a while. He wasn't even sure if the child died from the disease or simply from neglect because of dead parents.
After a long day of trying to save as many children as he could, he needed a break. He found his way into the nicer part of town. The part of town that was cleaner and easier to keep the disease away. He desperately needed a drink. When he stepped into the bar and felt the need to look up immediately, his heart started to pound in his chest. His angel was there, he knew it. He looked up and saw the glow from a lovely man sitting at the bar and sipping from a glass of red wine. His lovely blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes like a port in a storm. Crowley walked over and sat down at the bar as well with just a stool between them.
"You look as if you've had a very rough day." The man said as he looked over Crowley.
"It's been a long one, yeah." Crowley said with a nod. He ordered a whiskey and told the bar keep to leave the bottle. He did at least pour some into the glass before downing all of it and refilling.
"I've been told that I am an excellent listener." The man said as he moved over to sit right next to Crowley. Their knees brushed and Crowley had to down another glass of whiskey to keep himself under control.
"I'm a doctor." Was all that Crowley said in response, looking at the man with a sort of haunted look in his eyes.
"Oh. That must be dreadful in this day and age." The man didn't hesitated to pat Crowley on the shoulder. It was an interesting gesture from a complete stranger.
"Very." Was all Crowley said in return. They ended up sitting together in the bar just drinking, him with his wine and Crowley with his whiskey. They didn't talk much and it was actually a comfort. Crowley enjoyed the fact that he was just there. He would occasionally try to take Crowley's mind off of things with some story or another but him just being that close was all he needed.
"I've just realized that I never actually introduced myself. How rude of me." The man said. They'd been talking literally for hours.
"It's alright, really." Crowley offered him a smile, though it didn't go past his lips.
"Well, it is still very rude." The man nodded. "Alexander Fell." He smiled and offered his hand Crowley took the hand and pondered for a moment.
"Anthony Crowley." He returned and then went back to drinking his whiskey. They talked for a while longer and then the bar keep told them he was closing up and they'd need to leave. They had completely lost track of time.
"Perhaps, Mr. Crowley, I could walk you back to your flat? You look absolutely exhausted and I would hate to find out something happened to you along the way." Alexander smiled. It was that same beautiful smile. Crowley looked at him for a moment before he nodded.
"I would greatly appreciate that." He replied with a smile. The walk to Crowley's flat was made in a comfortable silence. He did notice that Alexander would occasionally 'accidentally' brush his fingers against Crowley's. It was nice.
"Here we are." Crowley motioned to the nearest door. "Home safe and sound." He chuckled.
"Yes, quite." Alexander looked at the door and then looked at Crowley. He really didn't want to go home just yet. "Safe and sound."
"Would you like to come in for some tea, angel?" Crowley asked, eyes locked on Alexander's. And there was that familiar look. The shutting down and starting up again.
"That would be ever so lovely." Aziraphale replied. Crowley offered his arm and the two of them went into his flat. They did have some tea but things soon moved into the bedroom for a night of passion that Crowley had desperately needed without realizing it until it happened. Laying in bed with his angel in his arms, the sunlight moving across the bed as it rose, he was happier than he'd been in a very long time.
His angel wanted to help. Wanted to be of any kind of assistance when it came to the horribleness that was sweeping the whole of Britain. Crowley allowed him to accompany him, and did everything he could to keep his angel safe. But mortality was something that Crowley couldn't win against. It was toward the very end of the epidemic when Alexander started to show the signs. He'd been around it far too much, even with all of the protection that was offered at the time. Crowley did everything he could to heal his angel but it wasn't enough. He couldn't save him no matter how hard he tried. Of everything that had happened in all of Aziraphale's lives, Crowley felt like this one was the worst.
He wasn't supposed to be helping. The plague was something that Hell would rejoice over. The humans doing things to themselves and ending up in Hell because of it. But he couldn't just stand by and watch thousands upon thousands of humans die simply because of dirty living situations. Most of them had no control over it. And then there were the kids. There was no way in Heaven or Hell that Crowley could just stand by and watch as all those kids died of this stupid illness.
Crowley would go through the worst parts of London with the highest infection rates and somehow, miraculously, all the children would survive. Well, most of them. Crowley couldn't get to every single child before it was too late and it seriously broke his heart. He just stood over a crib, crying over a baby that he'd been to late to save. The parents had been dead for a while. He wasn't even sure if the child died from the disease or simply from neglect because of dead parents.
After a long day of trying to save as many children as he could, he needed a break. He found his way into the nicer part of town. The part of town that was cleaner and easier to keep the disease away. He desperately needed a drink. When he stepped into the bar and felt the need to look up immediately, his heart started to pound in his chest. His angel was there, he knew it. He looked up and saw the glow from a lovely man sitting at the bar and sipping from a glass of red wine. His lovely blonde hair and beautiful blue eyes like a port in a storm. Crowley walked over and sat down at the bar as well with just a stool between them.
"You look as if you've had a very rough day." The man said as he looked over Crowley.
"It's been a long one, yeah." Crowley said with a nod. He ordered a whiskey and told the bar keep to leave the bottle. He did at least pour some into the glass before downing all of it and refilling.
"I've been told that I am an excellent listener." The man said as he moved over to sit right next to Crowley. Their knees brushed and Crowley had to down another glass of whiskey to keep himself under control.
"I'm a doctor." Was all that Crowley said in response, looking at the man with a sort of haunted look in his eyes.
"Oh. That must be dreadful in this day and age." The man didn't hesitated to pat Crowley on the shoulder. It was an interesting gesture from a complete stranger.
"Very." Was all Crowley said in return. They ended up sitting together in the bar just drinking, him with his wine and Crowley with his whiskey. They didn't talk much and it was actually a comfort. Crowley enjoyed the fact that he was just there. He would occasionally try to take Crowley's mind off of things with some story or another but him just being that close was all he needed.
"I've just realized that I never actually introduced myself. How rude of me." The man said. They'd been talking literally for hours.
"It's alright, really." Crowley offered him a smile, though it didn't go past his lips.
"Well, it is still very rude." The man nodded. "Alexander Fell." He smiled and offered his hand Crowley took the hand and pondered for a moment.
"Anthony Crowley." He returned and then went back to drinking his whiskey. They talked for a while longer and then the bar keep told them he was closing up and they'd need to leave. They had completely lost track of time.
"Perhaps, Mr. Crowley, I could walk you back to your flat? You look absolutely exhausted and I would hate to find out something happened to you along the way." Alexander smiled. It was that same beautiful smile. Crowley looked at him for a moment before he nodded.
"I would greatly appreciate that." He replied with a smile. The walk to Crowley's flat was made in a comfortable silence. He did notice that Alexander would occasionally 'accidentally' brush his fingers against Crowley's. It was nice.
"Here we are." Crowley motioned to the nearest door. "Home safe and sound." He chuckled.
"Yes, quite." Alexander looked at the door and then looked at Crowley. He really didn't want to go home just yet. "Safe and sound."
"Would you like to come in for some tea, angel?" Crowley asked, eyes locked on Alexander's. And there was that familiar look. The shutting down and starting up again.
"That would be ever so lovely." Aziraphale replied. Crowley offered his arm and the two of them went into his flat. They did have some tea but things soon moved into the bedroom for a night of passion that Crowley had desperately needed without realizing it until it happened. Laying in bed with his angel in his arms, the sunlight moving across the bed as it rose, he was happier than he'd been in a very long time.
His angel wanted to help. Wanted to be of any kind of assistance when it came to the horribleness that was sweeping the whole of Britain. Crowley allowed him to accompany him, and did everything he could to keep his angel safe. But mortality was something that Crowley couldn't win against. It was toward the very end of the epidemic when Alexander started to show the signs. He'd been around it far too much, even with all of the protection that was offered at the time. Crowley did everything he could to heal his angel but it wasn't enough. He couldn't save him no matter how hard he tried. Of everything that had happened in all of Aziraphale's lives, Crowley felt like this one was the worst.
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