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“Oh dear,” Aziraphale said faintly.
Pitch-black darkness surrounded them from all sides, stretching as far as the non-corporeal eye could see. One moment the two of them had been in the bookshop, saying their final goodbyes, and now they were… Here.
Much to his relief, Crowley’s hand remained firmly intertwined with his. Wherever they were, they were there together.
Crowley squeezed his hand. “Where are we?”
Aziraphale turned to him, just as confused. “Well I certainly don't know.”
The two of them peered around, only seeing further darkness.
“Didn't think there was anything after… Well, after,” Crowley mused.
“Neither did I.”
It was unlikely he still had access to the celestial network, but just to be certain, Aziraphale thought very hard about a bottle of 1961 Bordeaux and snapped his fingers. Nothing happened.
“Miracles not working?”
“Araid not.”
“Nh, ‘nd mine weren't working to begin with.”
Abruptly, Aziraphale registered a faint tickling at the back of his senses. He frowned, doing another sweep across his line of vision for the source. Crowley swung their hands and blew a puff of air through his lips.
“So, this is it, then?”
Aziraphale gave a distracted hum. “I'm not entirely certain.”
Whatever the sensation was, it was quite out of place in such a bleak dimension. It felt almost… Cozy, to Aziraphale. He couldn't exactly place it. Perhaps he was sensing Crowley stronger than usual?
Aziraphale took a glance behind them, expecting more nothingness, only to be met with a beige shape.
“Oh, Crowley, do look, there's a sleeping person.”
A few meters behind them, a man-shaped being laid prone on the dark ground, eyes closed, wearing a wrinkled trenchcoat overtop a shirt and tie. His lips were slightly upturned at the sides, giving him a sad smile even in his sleep.
Crowley squinted down at him. “Bit odd.”
Crowley was right, there was something a bit odd about the being, though perhaps not in the way he was thinking. Aziraphale had thought it was just Crowley he was sensing, but after laying eyes on the sleeping being, it appeared the feeling was emanating from him instead. It practically radiated off of him, strong enough Aziraphale could sense it even from here.
It was Love.
“Odd indeed.”
Crowley turned back to Aziraphale and gave his hand another quick squeeze before letting go. As he sauntered over and crouched down next to the sleeping being, Aziraphale began to fret.
“Oh dear, don't poke him!”
“Why not?” Crowley asked, poking him.
Aziraphale hurried to his side. “Well it’s rude, for one, and we don't–”
The man-shaped being’s eyes flew open with a gasp.
“...Know him. Um, hello.”
Crowley rocked back on his heels to give the being more space as he propped himself up, looking wildly around.
“Excuse me, um. I'm Aziraphale, this is Crowley.” Aziraphale laid a hand on Crowley's shoulder, who did a little two-fingered salute.
The man-shaped being blinked at them, then squinted. Aziraphale gave a smile he hoped would come off as friendly.
“I am Castiel, angel of the Lord.” His voice was deep and scratchy, almost to a painful degree. If only Aziraphale could miracle him a throat lozenge.
“Oh, a fellow angel! That's wonderful!”
“Is it?” Crowley muttered.
“Yes, dear, it is,” Aziraphale murmured back, squeezing his shoulder. “Pardon us, Castiel, but do you happen to know where we are?”
Castiel continued to squint. “Yes, we're… In the Empty.”
“The Empty?”
“It's where angels and demons go where they die.”
Whether it was a true feeling or a habit from when he still had a corporation, Aziraphale felt the blood drain from his face. So it was true, then. They were actually dead. He dug his fingers into Crowley's jacket.
Castiel began to look around with a furrowed brow, as though searching for something. The poor dear still seemed rather confused.
“Did it work?” he rasped.
“Did what work?” Crowley asked.
“The…” The man-shaped being glanced around again, brow furrowed. “The deal. To save D– the world.”
Aziraphale attempted to share a lost look with Crowley, though since the former demon didn't look up at him, it only reached his upper right ear. Despite this, Crowley somehow managed to return his look with a half-shrug.
“I'm afraid we were wondering something similar,” Aziraphale said. “Did you… Also make a deal to save the world?”
If possible, Castiel looked even more confused. He pressed a hand to his forehead. “I sacrificed myself to stop Billie.”
Crowley actually looked up at Aziraphale this time to mouth Billie? Aziraphale shrugged– they didn't know a Billie.
“She was a reaper who was trying to take over the role of God,” Castiel clarified.
“Ooh, nasty business, reapers.”
“I'm sorry, did you say take over the role of God?”
Castiel opened his mouth to reply, only for his eyes to grow wide. Whatever he was going to say was cut off.
“It's coming.”
Alarm shot through Aziraphale. “Pardon me?”
Castiel clambered to his feet, nearly stumbling in his haste. Aziraphale reached a hand out to steady him. At his side, Crowley too rose, whipping his head around the space.
“Can smell it.” He sniffed, wrinkling his nose. “‘s something big. Old.”
“Oh dear. I don't suppose it's friendly?”
“It’s not,” Castiel informed them.
He stepped out of Aziraphale's hold, clenching his fists in anticipation. Aziraphale instinctively inched closer to Crowley, who had begun walking circles around him while sniffing the air like some sort of supernatural bloodhound.
To their left, a drawn out squelching sound cut through the quiet, almost like rushing water, but deeper– thicker. The three of them spun towards the noise.
Emerging from the ground, a gleaming black shape clawed its way upwards and began to take form. It started as a small clump and bubbled outwards, rivulets of dark goo twisting and contorting around itself until it formed a large, vaguely humanoid shape. Crowley positioned himself slightly ahead of Aziraphale.
Where the mouth would be, a slit cut into the goop and split open wide.
“Why aren't you asleep?!”
The three beings stared with varying degrees of guardedness. Aziraphale, for his part, leaned towards Crowley with a furrowed brow. “Does it have a transatlantic accent?” he whispered.
Crowley tipped his head.
“Well?” The shadow screeched.
Both Aziraphale and Crowley turned to Castiel, given that he seemed to have an inkling of what was currently happening, but the angel stayed stone-faced and quiet. Crowley turned back to the shadow with a frown, pointing between himself and Aziraphale, then at Castiel.
“Yes, you. All of you! Why are you awake?!”
Crowley sputtered. “Oh, now that's– good question! Very good question, that. We have no idea.”
His silver-tongued demon, expertly avoiding mentioning that he most certainly poked Castiel awake. Aziraphale flashed him a thumbs up.
“You have no idea? No idea?” The shadow’s face-like area whipped towards Castiel, who was still standing stiff as a board.
“I thought our deal was very clear. In exchange for your little brat’s life, I get to take you when you feel true happiness, and then you go to sleep. Forever. What part of forever do you not understand?”
Aziraphale let out a gasp, hand flying to his heart. “Well that's simply ghastly!”
At last, Castiel took a step towards the shadow. “I’m aware, and I accepted those terms, so long as Jack remained safe. I… I don't know why I'm awake now.”
Aziraphale and Crowley shared a most definitely not guilty look.
“I don't know how you did it again, but it has to be your fault!” Rings of the shadow's goop writhed angrily in Castiel’s direction.
Aziraphale opened his mouth to inform the being that it very much was not this poor angel’s fault, and frankly it was being quite rude– only for Crowley to cut him off with a quiet shushing. Aziraphale gave him an affronted look.
“And don’t think I don't know you used me to get rid of Billie, too. You're lucky I wanted to take her more than I wanted to get back at you, dummy.”
“I had to,” Castiel growled. “I needed to save the humans.”
Now that struck quite the chord. Just how many celestial beings were going around making sacrificial deals with all-powerful entities for the good of humanity?
“Oh, but we both know it was mostly just for the one human, hm?” The shadow taunted.
Castiel’s face hardened impossibly further. A spike of love shot out from the angel, strong enough to nearly knock Aziraphale over. Overwhelmed, he reached out to place a hand on Crowley's shoulder.
Castiel turned away from the shadow and gritted his teeth. That only seemed to make it grow angrier.
“We had a deal, Castiel!”
“Woah woah, now hold on,” Crowley cut in. “That deal is a load of utter bollocks! I mean, the kid just wanted to protect his family, and for that you sentence him to, what, sleep for eternity?”
“Kid?” Castiel rasped.
“Yes, yes, exactly!” Aziraphale shook off the last of his stupor. “And to give him one fleeting moment of happiness, just to pull it away! He's full of so much love. What cruel entity would force someone to make that kind of choice?”
Aziraphale faltered. Oh. What cruel entity, indeed. Slowly, he glanced towards Crowley, who was already watching him with a sad, knowing look.
Castiel stared at the two of them with a shocked expression (or, rather, what Aziraphale chose to read as shocked– the angel was about as expressive as a plank of wood). After a moment, his face hardened, and he turned back to the shadow.
“They’re right.” He stormed up to the entity and jabbed a finger into its goop. “As long as I’m here, you will never sleep again.”
“No! We are not doing a repeat of this.”
“I made you return me to Earth once, and I will do it again.
The shadow pulled away from him. “Shut up!”
“I learned many popular songs during my time there.”
“No, no, no!”
“Have you heard of a ‘lead zeppelin’?”
“Stop it!”
Crowley leaned towards Aziraphale. “Did he actually annoy it into letting him go last time?”
That did appear to be the case.
“I believe it's a type of large airship,” Castiel continued.
“Lead balloon,” Crowley muttered to no one in particular.
The sludge entity formed itself hands to cover its non-existent ears as Castiel began regaling it with a vague history of German dirigibles.
Aziraphale looked between the two of them, then back to Crowley, clearing his throat. “Should we perhaps leave them to it?”
“I mean… Don't seem to be getting anywhere.”
The two of them slowly began to back away.
Aziraphale and Crowley sat side-by-side, arms and legs pressed together. A good distance ahead of them, among the endless darkness, the angel Castiel was amidst a heated argument with a sentient conglomeration of black goop. Aziraphale and Crowley’s hands sat intertwined, resting atop their legs.
“D’you think it worked, then?” Crowley murmured. “God just snaps Her fingers and makes a universe where humans have free will, all ‘cause we asked?”
Aziraphale tore his gaze away from the altercation and towards Crowley. “Well…” He frowned. “I suppose we have no way of knowing for certain.”
Faintly, the shadow cried out, “Don't you dare!”
“I would like to think the Almighty kept Her word, though,” Aziraphale said.
In the distance, Castiel started up a particularly grating rendition of some bebop song.
“All of you shut up!” The shadow screamed. “Shut up! I just want to sleep!”
Crowley hissed. “Been there.”
Aziraphale gave a hand a consoling pat. “You know, I do feel a tad bit bad for it.”
Crowley turned to him with a disbelieving look. “What, bad for the sadistic being that sent the angel back to Earth only to steal him away again when he felt true happiness?”
“Well…”
The shadow lashed out a ring of goop in their direction and let out an ear-splitting screech.
“Shut up!”
Aziraphale winced.
“Our bad.” Crowley gave a half-hearted wave.
They watched as Castiel narrowly dodged one of the shadow's swipes.
“If Castiel escaped last time by bothering the creature until it let him free, we seem to be well on our way there,” Aziraphale whispered, tilting his head towards Crowley's.
Crowley hummed. “Question is, ‘s there anything to go back to?”
There was a beat of quiet, save for the faint, gravelly singing. Aziraphale idly ran his thumb along the back of Crowley's hand as he pondered.
He shifted, turning towards Crowley fully. “You know dear, if the only way the humans can have a happy ending is without Heaven and Hell, without us, well… I wouldn't mind staying here for a while.”
Crowley mirrored him, golden-yellow eyes meeting his own. “Y’sure, angel? There's no bookshop here. No books at all. No perfectly aged wines, no cryptic crosswords–”
“Crowley.”
“No quaint little restaurants. No sushi! You love sushi.”
Aziraphale gave him a smile that was full of six thousand years of pent-up fondness.
“I suppose I have something here I want more than any of that.”
Crowley let out a baffled scoff. “What, is there a first-edition Austen here I haven't–”
Aziraphale kissed him.