Classical music flowed melodically through the bookshop as an angel settled down with cup of cocoa and a Jane Austen book. Aziraphale was on the first page of "Love and Friendship" when rapid knocking came from the front door.

"We're closed!" Aziraphale called out, craning his neck slightly towards the door.

"Angel! It's me!" Crowley shouted from the other side of the door.

Aziraphale was on his feet in seconds. He has never heard Crowley this frantic before. Something had to be very wrong.

When he opens the door, Crowley rushes in then wrenches the door out of Aziraphale's hands and slams it shut. Next, the demon manually shuts all the blinds at the front of the bookshop, instead of using a miracle like he would normally do.

"Crowley? Are you alright?" Aziraphale asked him, very concerned seeing his...acquaintance so panicked.

"Nuh-uh, not alright. Not alright at all." Crowley shook his head, pacing in circles.

Crowley actually admitting he wasn't okay concerned Aziraphale even more. Was he in some kind of danger? Did Hell find out about the Arrangement?

"Oh, dear boy, what ever is the matter?" Aziraphale asked worriedly.

"I'm pregnant." Crowley replied.

"I beg your pardon?" Aziraphale stammered, completely bewildered.

"Ngk...gaahhh!" Crowley groaned in frustration, throwing his head back.

He grabs the angel's wrist and drags him to the back room where they always hang out.

"Crowley, if you're joking, I don't find it very amusing." Aziraphale scolded, ripping his wrist out of Crowley's grasp.

"I'M NOT JOKING!!" Crowley snapped, screaming louder than he planned to.

Aziraphale startles, stepping back a few steps. Crowley's outbursts never normally come this quickly. It's usually something that gradually boils over during an argument.

Crowley exhales tiredly, dropping his haunched shoulders. And that is when Aziraphale realizes how awful Crowley truly looked.

"Trust me, Angel, I really wish this was a joke...but it's not." Crowley said softer, but also devastatingly defeated.

"Oh dear..." Aziraphale said, sad at seeing Crowley suffering.

"Come now, let's get you sitting down." he gently demanded, herding the demon to the sofa.

The change in position jostled Crowley's poor stomach.

"Uhg, feel like I'm gonna be sick." Crowley grunts, bending over, bracing his hands on his knees.

"D-do you need a bin, dear?" Aziraphale asked tentatively.

"Mmmf, don't know." Crowley mumbles.

Aziraphale silently decides to go get him one just in case. He also decides to make Crowley tea, hopefully to help him feel better.

His mind was a torrent of racing thoughts as he brewed the tea. How was something like this possible? Angels and Demons weren't supposed to be able to conceive, at least that's what Aziraphale thought. But here Crowley was, claiming to be pregnant...and he clearly didn't seem to be lying. What would the demon have to gain for lying about something like this, anyway.

Then Aziraphale suddenly remembered the process of procreation. That filled him with a confusing mixture of irritation (*cough* jealousy *cough*) and disappointment.

"Was this an accidental result of a lust temptation?" Aziraphale asked shyly, placing the bin he got next to Crowley's feet and the tea into his hands.

"Excuse me?" Crowley sputtered, offended.

A rosy pink blooms across the angel's cheeks. He wasn't sure he was comfortable discussing the sex life of his demonic companion.

"Well, what I'm trying to ask is...was this an assignment from Hell that went wrong?" Aziraphale nervously asked, his fingers figiting with his waistcoat.

Even with his dark shades on, Aziraphale could clearly see the wounded disbelief on Crowley's face.

"Are you....are you calling me a sl*t right now?" Crowley chuckled, his voice tight and strained.

"I said no such word!" Aziraphale argued.

"But you f**king implied it!" Crowley yelled back.

"Well, I'm sorry, but you are a demon, I thought it was a fair assumption." Aziraphale replied, defensively.

"F**K YOU!!" Crowley screamed, throwing the cup of tea towards Aziraphale's head with great force.

Aziraphale ducks just in time to avoid being struck by a ceramic tea cup and scalded by hot tea.

"Now listen here, you foul fiend, just because you're with child, and probably quite hormonal, does not give you an excuse to throw things at me!" Aziraphale told Crowley.

"I'm sorry, oh angel of the lord, am I not allowed to feel angry when I'm insulted to my face!?" Crowley scoffed, his sarcasm dripping like venom.

The two of them stood scowling at each other, waiting for the other to say something. This is just one of many arguments they've had over the course of 6000 years. This isn't even the worst of it, there have been far worse things that have been argued about.

Aziraphale excuses himself from the room to fetch cleaning supplies to take care of the mess the shattered tea cup made. A miracle could've been used to clean the mess in less than a second, but Aziraphale thought the few minutes of space would be enough for him and Crowley to calm down. He would hate for things to possibly escalate and have another repeat of the "Holy Water Incident".

When Aziraphale returns, he sees that the mess is gone and so is Crowley. Panicked, he drops the cleaning supplies and chases after him. Thankfully, Aziraphale was able to catch Crowley before he entered his car.

"Crowley, please! Don't leave. Not because of me." Aziraphale begged.

Crowley stood eerily quiet, his back to the angel, leaning against the roof of the Bentley with the driver's door wide open. Then Aziraphale heard something that sent ice into his corporation's veins.

Tiny, quiet sniffles.

Crowley was crying.

The demon almost never cries, at least not where anyone, including Aziraphale, can see. There logically has to be a few instances where Crowley has cried, just most likely behind closed doors. Crowley was a demon, not a complete monster.

The one time Crowley's tears have been witnessed by the angel was after The Flood. When Aziraphale had pointed it out, the demon had snapped viciously at him, then turned into a snake and literally burrowed into the ground to get away from him.

Aziraphale always knew that he would hate to see Crowley cry. And he hates even more that it was him that caused it.

"I'm not leaving because of you. *sniff* I'm just tired. I guess that's to be expected with my current...condition." Crowley said quietly, trying desperately to hide how upset he is.

"Crowley, dear, please tell me what's going on. Help me understand what kind of predicament you are in." Aziraphale pleaded.

Crowley turns around and takes off his dark glasses so that Aziraphale can see him when he explains the situation.

"The baby's not mine, I'm just a surrogate..." Crowley began explaining.

He paused for a moment, scared of what would happen next once Aziraphale knows.

"Dear, it's alright, you can tell me." Aziraphale told him.

"It's the Antichrist." Crowley said.

As Aziraphale realized what Crowley had meant, fear and panic took over, replacing all sense of logic and reason. The logic and reason that would have stopped him from what he was about to do.

"I...I-I'm sorry, Crowley...I can't help you." Aziraphale choked out nervously.

Having to watch as the hope diminished in Crowley's eyes, ripped Aziraphale's very being apart. Crowley forcefully shoves his glasses back on, but Aziraphale still saw the tears that leaked out and ran down his cheeks.

"Why not?" Crowley asked brokenly.

"It's too dangerous. Hell is bound to be keeping a close eye on you. If they saw us together..." Aziraphale explained but couldn't finish because the thought of Crowley getting hurt was too much.

"And Heaven definitely wont like it. An angel helping a demon that's carrying the Antichrist? No, that's too much of a risk that I refuse to take." he added, unable to look at Crowley.

He expected the demon to explode and yell at him, but he didn't. Crowley no longer had the energy to yell.

"I should've known better than to think I could count on you." Crowley sighed, getting into his car and driving away.

It was only when the Bentley was out of sight that Aziraphale felt the crushing weight of guilt and shame. The guilt and shame he felt every single time his fear of Heaven's disapproval caused him to push his only friend away.

Aziraphale stood on the sidewalk outside the bookshop for hours, hoping Crowley would come back so he could beg for his forgiveness. When it was clear that wasn't gonna happen, he wipes his tears away and goes back inside.

For as long as they've known each other, Crowley has always come to Aziraphale's rescue and helped him when he needed it. Aziraphale felt like a coward because he couldn't bring himself to do the same in return. Especially when Crowley needed him most.