AU: X
Ship: Ineffable Husbands
Prompt: X
Requested by: X
Warnings: Talk of death, panic attacks/mental breakdowns. Let me know if I missed any!
Summary: After the bus ride, Aziraphale goes to Crowley's flat, and comes to certain realizations.
F/A/H-C: Hurt Comfort
POV: 3rd person (Following Aziraphale, but switches to Crowley a few times)
Word Count: 1,623
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Side Note: I figured that while this isn't the first fic I wrote for Good Omens, it should be the first one I post! Seeing as it's incredibly tropey. This is The Missing Scene fic.

Enjoy!
-Logan
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The bus ride back to London was silent. They both needed to talk about quite a lot, but they didn't want to do so  at the moment. Aziraphale had too much on his mind, he knew if he even tried talking he would end up breaking down.

Crowley was much the same, ending up becoming lost in his thoughts as the ride went on. He only came back to himself when he heard Aziraphale clear his throat, he glanced over to see the angel holding a hand out to him. His eyes meeting his in an unspoken plea.

The demon was a bit taken back by this. He had wanted this, something like this for 6,000 years. But, now there was something new to this. Something he didn't want to quite place yet. After a moment, he reached out and held onto Aziraphale's hand, intertwining their fingers. The angel smiled a little before looking back around, getting lost in his own thoughts.

Aziraphale hadn't been inside Crowley's flat, if he did it was a very long time ago. The flat was clean, empty and sleek. In all reality he wasn't too surprised, it fit with Crowley's aesthetic as one would say.

He let out a small gasp as he saw the luscious green plants. "Oh, they're beautiful, Crowley." He murmured, reaching out and delicately touching the leaves, confused as the plants seeming to shiver under his touch.

The demon looked over, "Don't praise them too much or they'll start slacking." He said, an irritated tone directed at the plants, not the angel. Aziraphale looked even more confused but passed it off as another 'Crowley' thing he would never quite understand.

As he followed where Crowley was leading he passed by the hallway with a rather peculiar looking statue at the end. He bit his lip, keeping himself quiet at the implications his mind came up with at the look of it.

"Aziraphale." His name snapped him back to attention, he glanced over noticing the demon now had removed his glasses and was gesturing him to follow again. He was lead to a kitchen area, though it looked obviously unused.

"Do you... Want a drink?" Crowley offered, as he went around to the other side of the bar, knowing that the tense silence that hung in the air was going to have to be addressed soon. Aziraphale nodded, "Just some scotch would be fine..." He murmured.

Aziraphale looked out the window, gazing out at the beautiful view and the night sky. As if it were the last time he would ever see it. Which in his mind, it was. His attention returned as the drink was placed down in front of him. Noticing Crowley had poured himself one as well.

They stayed silent, taking sips of their drinks. They had stopped Armageddon. But, they weren't free. Nothing was over. "They're going to come for us, aren't they?" Aziraphale whispered, trying not to show how badly his voice was shaking.

Crowley nodded, "Yep," He whispered back, "we are traitors to them." Aziraphale felt tears threaten to fall down his face, he set his glass down, now more petrified that he would drop it or shatter it. He didn't want to die, but he knew that heaven would not be merciful to him. Nor did he believe hell would be any kinder to Crowley.

"This is it then," he mumbled, "so bittersweet. Armageddon has been stopped, we saved everyone, and-" he swallowed a little harshly, "and they're going to kill us, Crowley!" He broke, immediately tears fell and sobs began escaping him.

Crowley set his drink down and went around to the other side where Aziraphale was seated, "Angel, angel..." He murmured holding onto Aziraphale's hand once again. Which Aziraphale clung onto tightly, it took all of his willpower not to throw himself at the demon.

His body was shuddering, memory after memory coming to his mind. Flashing through like photographs, Eden, The Arc, The Crucification, Rome, Wessex, Paris, Saint James' Park. Oh he was so worried that he wouldn't get to see Crowley again, and he had lost 100 years. He had wasted so much time. He thought that he had eternity, time was something they never had to worry about.

But now they did.

"I wasted so much time..." He sobbed, "I should've... There's so much I should've said so long ago. And now it doesn't matter." Crowley stayed quiet during this breakdown, mostly trying to keep from the meltdown he was experiencing himself internally.

"I should have told you, back in 1941, but I was terrified. Terrified of them finding out, finding out about everything and coming for us." The angel laughed a little, though there was no joy to his tone. The spite filled noise was so rare that Crowley moved back a bit in surprise. "So much for that..." He remarked.

Crowley hesitated for a moment before asking, "What was it? That you wanted to tell me?" Aziraphale sniffled and gave a small smile to him, he moved his hand away from Crowley's and cupped the demon's face.

"That I love you..." The words escaped his mouth in a hushed whisper. He knew that it was really now or never, if Crowley didn't return his feelings, then it didn't matter that the angels were coming to kill him soon.

There was silence, silence that felt like it lasted for hours, which it might have. Aziraphale felt his heart shatter, "Please say something…" He mumbled, another please left him so quiet it was barely audible. Crowley did hear it, however.

"Angel," the demon started, "I have loved you for so, so long…" He said, his voice shaking just as badly as Aziraphale's was. The angel's willpower stopped, immediately he was throwing himself at Crowley wrapping his arms around him and holding on tightly. The force enough to knock them both down to the ground.

They stayed there, a mix of laughter and sobs of relief from both sides. They held onto one another tightly, as if letting go would make the other vanish before them. 6,000 years of this, of not knowing if they would ever get this relief.

And now they only had tonight.

After another hour or so, they had calmed down and moved to Crowley's bedroom. The floor wasn't too terribly comfortable for either of them, but they weren't going to be apart from one another now. Now they couldn't be separated like they had been before.

Aziraphale could only think of what was to come, now, they needed something. Anything, some kind of plan, a direction- That was it. He sat up quickly, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the scrap of paper. Anges Nutter's last prophecy.

"Choose thy faces wisely." He whispered before looking over to Crowley, who was incredibly confused, with eyes wide. "Crowley, Hell is going to come for you, Heaven will come for me."

Crowley stared at the angel, confusion still evident, before comprehension slowly came across his face. His eyes widened as well, "If we swap…"

Aziraphale nodded, "Then they… When they try to kill us we'll be immune to what they try…" He knew angels got executed with Hellfire. He could only assume that demons were treated the same with holy water. Crowley nodded, "And they'd let us go…"

As they set up their plan, sunlight began to pour through the window. The two of them grew even more nervous at this, this was it.

"If… If this doesn't work," Aziraphale started quietly, pausing from switching his face quite yet, "And we never see one another again, please, please just know that I don't regret this. I don't regret being around you, I don't regret stopping the world from ending. The only thing I regret is not having more time with you."

Crowley was quiet for a moment, before taking Aziraphale's hand. "This will work, Angel. We will have more time together, much more." The demon placed a kiss to Aziraphale's forehead, making him smile a little, though the worry and pain in his eyes was evident.

The angel looked around, trying to get a sense. There was no one, no one was looking. "Switch," he murmured. Odd, or strange were not enough to describe the sense he had gotten from seeing his own face appear om Crowley.

"I'll check on the bookshop for you? Then we'll meet up at the park?" Crowley asked, Aziraphale nodded, "Yes," he hesitated for a moment before standing from the bed, "Good luck"

"Same to you, Angel…"

----

Hell reeked. It was hot, cramped, it seemed to lack any air. He didn't need to breathe, but it still felt like he was suffocating. The demons touched him, moaning insults towards him.

The dark hallways seemed to span forever, though he had to keep his head held high. Crowley wouldn't care, he'd play it off as if he wasn't petrified. He needed to play the part.

----

Heaven burned. Crowley felt his body constantly ache, but he had to stay still. Act like the holy area was not burning him up as I he was in the church once again. This was for Aziraphale.

The ropes dug into his skin, the air around him both chilled and burned him, creating this constant agonizing feeling. He kept still, trying not to wince as he ached.

----

"To the world."

They were safe now. No one would come for them. Heaven and Hell think they're invincible. They're afraid of them. Aziraphale smiled, it was all worth it. Everything he did that he knew went against what he was supposed to was now worth it.

Because now, he was here, with Crowley and they are free.

"To the world."