Chapter Text
Life Eternal
Chapter 1: It wasn’t a good day.
It’s only been an hour since Aziraphale left Earth. Crowley is driving his Bentley aimlessly through the streets of London going hundred miles per hour, drinking bottles of whiskey like it is water, tears flowing from under his sunglasses.
“Fucking Metatron… Why did Aziraphale leave me..? Did the six thousand years mean nothing to him?” he sobs and keeps drinking and driving. “I thought that kiss would convince him, that he will finally understand how much I lo-..!” he grunts and presses down on the accelerator.
“I’m pathetic… Of course, he doesn’t like me… I’m a demon… Unforgivable, pathetic, worthless, unlovable…”
Driving, no destination, ‘Life Eternal’ on the radio, alcohol burning his throat, the pain numbing his thoughts enough to let him breathe for a minute as the Bentley stops in the middle of nowhere. He looks at the dashboard – no gas. Of course.
Crowley sighs and throws the bottle out of the window as he blankly stares at the sunset in front of him. He must have driven for hours, he is on an empty road, trees on his left and the beach on his right. Crowley rubs his eyes behind his sunglasses and wipes off his tears.
Is there anything left for me..? Any reason to continue..? If only I hadn’t used up all the Holy Water that Azira-… Crowley grunts. That he gave me… I probably could ask Muriel for some…
The sound of someone clearing their throat snaps Crowley out of his spiralling thoughts that would most likely lead to his self-destruction.
“Hell-o Crowley…” a silky, deep, and slightly raspy voice, that sounds a bit like a caress…
Crowley flinches and turns his head to the passenger’s seat. A handsome- no, pretty- no… beautiful and perfect man is sitting in the seat that belongs to the Angel and that Crowley never lets anyone else sit in. Raven wavy hair that falls on his shoulders, fiery eyes and a smirk that reveals a sharp fang. Crowley gulps.
“M-master..?” Crowley manages to whisper, his heart racing and his breathing quickening and getting more shallow.
Satan snaps his fingers and suddenly they are no longer in Crowley’s car in the middle of nowhere but in a dimly lit room with red walls and furniture, a large bed with silk sheets and numerous items that look like torturing devices to the snake-eyed demon, whose yellow eyes expand in fear and cover the white sclera.
“N-no no no not again… please, my Lord..!” Crowley’s breath catches in his throat and he gets slapped, falling on the floor. Satan chuckles evilly and grabs Crowley by his throat, squeezing firmly enough to constrict his breathing.
“Hm. I’m gonna start thinking you don’t like me, Crowley. Did you miss me?~” he whispers into the demon’s ear, the warm breath making Crowley shiver.
Crowley feels himself panicking, his whole body is shaking, and he feels dizzy and as if he were about to pass out. The firm hand on his throat makes black spots appear in his vision.
“M-Master, of course, I l-like you… I did miss you.” Crowley manages to get out of his strained throat. He feels like vomiting after his words, he didn’t think he would have to say them ever again… He thought the last time was… the last time. That’s why he called it last. And it’s been 196 years since that fateful night in Edinburgh…