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My Angel, My Muse	By : lyssiana Category: G through L > Good Omens Views: 2810 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Good Omens, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-My Angel, My Muse
- 2-Two
- 3-Three
- 4-Four
- 5-Five
- 6-Six
- 5
- 6
Disclaimer: I do not own any rights to Good Omens, or any of the claimer: characters. They all belong to Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaimen. If you haven’t read them, you should...really quite good.

Chapter 6: Revelations
Crowley wiped his eyes with his hands, the cold tile of the bathroom floor saving him from falling into a complete mess. He just didn’t know what to do. Who did he tell about this? Who would understand? Its not like as a demon he could just call Michael down and explain. Or could he? How would that look on his permanent record? Saving an angel, or rather attempting to, as Crowley wasn’t sure anyone could do anything anyway.
He stood up. What was he doing sitting there wondering what would happen to him anyway? He still had his wings, he still had tons of possibilities. His angel, Aziraphale didn’t have many left.
He unlocked the bathroom door and walked back out into his living room. Aziraphale was even more striking against the black leather then the last time he had been there. It was because he was so pale. Crowley almost called out his name to check and see if he was still alive, but he knew that he was. He could almost feel the angels sorrow. He ventured around the side of the couch and looked down at him. He almost gasped. Within all of that pale skin the angel’s eyes were still so very much alive. He knelt down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you didn’t know. I wouldn’t have told you, or I would have been – I don’t know better about it somehow.”
Aziraphale was calm now. There wasn’t much else he could be. He couldn’t really rant and rave and scream and panic to anyone inside of his own head. He blinked, willing Crowley to understand that it was okay. It wasn’t the Demons fault. If it hadn’t been for him, Aziraphale would still be laying like a broken doll on the inside of the bookstore.
“If I hadn’t said those things in the restaurant you wouldn’t have run. We might have gone into the bookstore together, or –“ he paused, “not at all.” Crowley took Aziraphale's hand and brought the angels palm to his cheek.
Aziraphale thought he felt himself grow warm about the face. He couldn’t move damn it, but he could blush? Aziraphale had always wondered if that was a flaw. He’d never seen another angel blush, yet every time the demon touched him or even looked at him he turned pink. No wonder everyone always thought he was gay. Maybe he did like the demon a little more than was necessary.
He looked up at Crowley who was still holding his hand. Okay, maybe a lot more.
Crowley looked down at the blushing angel. He had the most sudden and irresistible urge to kiss him. Maybe not so sudden, but still, he could feel himself being drawn in and he couldn’t make himself look away. He grinned. Maybe he should just do it, surprise the angel one last time and get to see that look in his eyes.
Then angel was panicking now. Why in the hell was the demon looking at him like that? Aziraphale shut his eyes. Crowley’s face was so close that he could feel his breath across his face. There had been many times before than the angel thought that the demon would kiss him, but he never had. Aziraphale wasn’t sure what to think. Crowley was really the only attachment he had. Maybe the demon thought he would be angry, or upset. Aziraphale wondered if Crowley would have kissed him all of those times if he had known it was okay.
Crowley brushed his lips across the angel’s eyelids.
Aziraphale wondered what he had missed by never telling him so.
The demon traced a finger over Aziraphale’s mouth waiting for him to open his eyes in protest, but he didn’t.
Aziraphale was a little nervous, knowing what was going to happen, so he concentrated hard on the feeling of Crowley’s hand in his.
Wait. Feeling?
Aziraphales eyes shot open and he squeezed the demons hand. Crowley straightened up in shock. “You moved. Your hand, it moved.”
“I hadn’t meant to ruin that.”
Crowley turned his head to meet the new voice. Both he and Aziraphale saw God leaning against the doorway.
God smiled softly. “I only thought that it might be a little nicer if you could feel it.” He walked around to the chair across the living room and sat down. Two pairs or very nervous eyes and silence followed him.
Crowley spoke first. “It isn’t his fault. He couldn’t move, and I brought him here all on my own, he couldn’t even tell me no, because he cant speak, and I mean I wasn’t really going to do anything I was just con-“
God raised his hand cutting Crowley off. “Its alright, you haven’t actually done anything wrong.”
Crowley nodded. “But Aziraphale, I didn’t give him a choice I just kidnapped him and –“
“Crowley,” God said softly, “Aziraphale hasn’t done anything wrong either.”
“Oh.” Crowley sighed as he sagged back down to the floor, some of the immediate alert gone.
Aziraphale smiled at Crowleys worry. It never ceased to amaze him.
“Aziraphale.” God was looking directly at him.
“Sir?” Aziraphales voice came out as a rasp, and Crowley’s head spun around to look at him.
“Soon, you will be alright. I started healing you the moment I realized your plight.” God smiled almost evilly. “That’s why you were able to blush.”
Aziraphale blushed again. Just how long had God been standing there?
“Crowley,” God said, “Help him sit up, we have much to talk about.”
Crowley stood and with almost no effort at all pulled the angel into a sitting position. He paused and leaned him forward to look at his back. The wound was still there, huge and real. Why wasn’t God healing that like everything else? He started to pull away from the angel and sit back down, but Aziraphale had his sleeve wound tightly into his fingers. A quick look at the angels face confirmed that he wasn’t letting go.
The demon looked at God who nodded. “Have a seat Crowley.”
Crowley sat down carefully avoiding looking at the angel, who was carefully avoiding looking at him as well.
“Will you two relax?” God rolled his eyes and sat back in the chair. “Aziraphale, the last thing to heal will be your wings. They could take up to six months here. The wound will heal, you wont die, and you aren’t trapped any longer.”
Aziraphale was flexing his fingers and toes. “Six months here. How long would it take if I were…home?”
Crowley froze. He wanted Aziraphale to heal and be comfortable and even happy. Just…here.
God wasn’t looking at the angel, he was looking at Crowley, and smiling silently to himself about the range of emotion making its way across his face.
“Could be years. I haven’t ever actually made it in time to save an angel separated from its wings.”
Aziraphale stopped and looked at God, “Excuse my asking sir, but why so long in heaven?”
God sighed deeply and closed his eyes. “You know, Aziraphale, out of all the angels in heaven, you and you alone ask the most questions.”
The angel froze and Crowley started to open his mouth, the entire time wondering why he kept risking his skin in the first place. It was almost involuntary. “Its not –“
“Do hush Crowley. He still isn’t in any trouble, and your exasperated efforts to be his knight in shining armor are making you seem angelic.”
“I most certainly am not angeli-“ Aziraphale slapped a hand ever Crowleys mouth and gave him the dirtiest look and angel could manage in Gods presence.
Aziraphale turned to God to appoligize for Crowley, but stopped short at what he saw. God was laughing. It was silent, but he was laughing so hard his face was turning red. He looked at Crowley, but he seemed to be just as absorbed in the scene as he was.
God raised his hand in the air like a white flag, “I’m sorry, its just, I haven’t been around the two of you in so long, I forgot just how amusing you were.” He stopped laughing.
Crowley and Aziraphale froze to the couch.
“Aziraphale, I have so much to tell you.” He turned to Crowley, “And you as well, I don’t know where to begin.”
- 5
- 6
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My Angel, My Muse