Chapter Text
God created soulmarks the same day She created Adam and Eve. At that point, it was terribly redundant, given that the poor fellows couldn't read, but She liked to plan ahead.
Luckily - being the only man and woman on earth - they literally couldn't miss each other.
Across the garden from the two humans, who were beginning to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh, so to speak, Crowley was lying idly in serpent form on his favourite apple tree. Basking in the ethereal weather, he felt a sudden, unwelcome jolt of pain, almost as if someone was scratching a pattern into his scales.
He hissed, whipping around to confront the source of his discomfort. However, Crowley was all alone. Attempting to inspect the wound, he could make out a series of marks on the soft flesh of his underbelly.
That was curious. Unfortunately, Crowley couldn't read in snake form, so he returned to his sunbathing. After all, who knew when he'd next be able to spend time here on earth?
Later that day, with the tree one apple lighter and humanity doomed forever, Crowley stretched lazily back into demon form, intending to watch the human's departure from Eden.
If he was honest with himself, the demon had felt a tinge of alarm when he'd heard the Almighty's punishment. Really, to suffer for the rest of their lives, over a teensy bit of innocent curiosity?
It wasn't like he couldn't relate to that.
However, he told himself that he would enjoy watching them walk across the scorching hot desert, miserable and suffering. Stupid things.
He sauntered out of the Eastern gate, hoping to catch a last glimpse of the humans, maybe throw them a couple of apples for the journey.
Instead, he came face to face with a rather anxious looking angel. Dressed in soft white robes and looking particularly ethereal with tufts of white blonde hair, something about him made Crowley freeze. He felt dirty, soiled in comparison to this luminous figure.
That could've been you, an internal voice whispered. If only you hadn't asked so many bleeding questions.
'Well, that went down like a lead balloon' he mused, peeking sideways at the angel. He really couldn't seem to look away from him.
'Yeah... oh, sorry what was that?'
'Nevermind, what's gotten in to you? Shouldn't this be your moment of righteous glory, banishing the naughty humans from Eden? Don't you lot love that sort of thing?'
'Um, yes, quite.' The angel mumbled.
'No, seriously, what is it... er..?'
'Aziraphale'.
It suited him.
'Crowley.' He theatrically extended a hand, bowing his head in mock reverence. Aziraphale decided, probably for the best, to ignore this.
'Well, Crowley, I don't know if you've been told about this... down there, but soulmates have been assigned today.'
'Soulmates, what the bleeding hell is that?'
Aziraphale winced at his language, and Crowley found a strange delight in it.
'I'm not quite sure to be honest. Something about true love, a lifelong companion, names etched on skin forever. Whatever it is, I'm sure it's delightful...'
Oh, so that's what that was.
'...But?' Crowley interjected.
'I haven't got one! And I know, I know it's all part of God's ineffable plan. It just sounded so lovely.'
'Well, I've got one, you can have mine. I don't want it.'
Aziraphale blinked at him. 'I don't think it works like that. But thank you. That's actually rather kind of you.'
'Shut up.' The demon growled. 'Don't ever call me that word again.'
'I was complimenting you!'
'Well, don't.' Crowley looked around for a distraction. 'Say, weren't you supposed to have a flaming sword?'
Aziraphale looked guiltily into the distance, where Crowley noticed the humans were brandishing said flaming sword at a lion.
'Oh... angel, what did you do?'
Crowley, absolutely delighted at Aziraphale's unexpected insolence, raised his arm to lean against the gate with a smirk.
It was then that he saw it. Written like an eternal damnation across the inside of his wrist.
Aziraphale
Aziraphale, who had no soulmate.
Snatching his arm down and behind his back, Crowley felt like he couldn't breathe. While he hadn't heard about this soulmate business until today (honestly, hell could be so disorganised), he understood what love meant.
He remembered the infinite love he felt for the stars and galaxies he'd created, how he'd wanted nothing more than to gaze at the beautiful stretch of stars for eternity. The pain he’d felt at finding out they'd one day be ripped away from him, obliterated from existence, had been unbearable.
The thought of losing something else, after all he’d been through, was too much for Crowley.
Making his excuses to a blustering Aziraphale, he hurriedly miracled himself back into the garden, to the safety of the apple tree.
He tried to forget the disappointment on the angel’s face at his sudden departure. It didn't matter, they probably wouldn't see each other again anyway.