Chapter Text
He had been sulking a good six months before they so rudely interrupted his very alcoholic brunch. Or was it dinner? Crowley hadn’t bothered to check the time anymore, it was all the same. Day, night, light, dark, bla-bla-bla who gives a shit? This demon didn’t. Lounging in the pub at a booth he was nursing his seventh drink. To his displeasure, two low rank sat on either side of them. They were there simply to keep him in place. One was covered in soot like she had been cleaning a filthy chimney all afternoon. The other was bloated and looked like his face was going to melt.
“Bugger off won’t you?” Crowley growled in a slight slur. His face was flushed and it was clear he was far from sober. “Don’t you see I’m busy?”
“You aren’t busy. Not yet.” A third demon declared, sitting directly across from him.
“Ahh Shax! So not good to see you again.” He responded in high sarcasm. He smiled lazily as he worked to focus on her face. “Hey! Hey, how’d you make it up here after all the trouble you caused at the bookshop?”
“It looks like losing your pet angel hit you quite hard.”
“Well it looks like you – Should mind your own business.” He rebutted, finishing his glass.
“It is business I am here to discuss with you. Now will you focus!” She demanded. Crowley responded in the form of a burp.
Shax looked to her assistants. “Sober him up a bit, will you?”
“Now how are they gonna..” Crowley paused as each grabbed a wrist and absorbed the liquor from his blood stream. It felt like bugs were crawling all over his skin and it made him squirm uncomfortably. The demon lackies began to giggle at the sensation.
Newly sober, Crowley grimaced at the taste of whiskey on his tongue. “You didn’t have to do that, I could easily follow whatever ‘business’ you’ve got with me.”
“I know,” Shax shrugged with a wicked grin. “I just wanted it to hit you harder, you stupid lucky bastard.” She hissed.
Crowley’s brow furrowed with confusion. “What are you going on about?”
“Let me cut to the chase. A war is coming and it is understood that your former partner gook Gabriel’s place, meaning he is a high ranking archangel. You know him better than anyone else, which gives us an advantage. Also, there is an election coming up in Hell.”
“An election? What for??”
“Lord Beelzebub’s position is empty. It needs to be filled by someone, and you are on the ballot.”
His golden eyes popped open. “Me?! Take Beelzebub’s place, have you gone mad?!” Crowley protested loudly, earning several turned heads within the pub. Hell had gone mental if they considered him to take the position of Duke. A Lord of Hell. He barely wanted to have anything to do with Hell let alone run it. They just wanted to exploit him because of the idiot angel he used to know.
“Yes.” Shax whispered sharply. “You are expected to go down and participate in the campaign. The position must be filled.”
“Who else is running other than me?”
“Oh just a few others. Zimm, Orkett, Mazakeen, demons you don’t know…...Yours truly.” She beamed.
“So you’re running for the position as well?” He waved his hand dismissively. “Go on take it, I hereby resign and give you my vote, congratulations Lord Shax you’re the second in command of Hell.” She always wanted a high ranking position anyway. It didn’t matter to him so as long as he didn’t disrupt his time on Earth. But then again there wasn’t much to live for anymore with him up in Heaven. The angel made his choice.
“It’s not that simple.” She put flatly. “You can’t resign.”
“What if I try throwing it on purpose?”
“You either get reassigned to clean Hell Hound shit for the rest of eternity or be banished to live on the sun.”
“…..ERghhhh…” Crowley groaned in disgust. “Fine! When do I start?”
Shax stood up and gestured her party to do the same. The charred and melted demons then stood beside her as she gazed coldly down at the sulking demon. How pathetic she thought he looked. “We will collect you when it is time.”
As they walked away, Crowley puppeted his hand in a mocking fashion and mouthed her words. ‘collect you when it’s time’. Up theirs! Shax’s party stumbled a bit, still drunk off his whiskey. Now he needed more. Due to the high volume consumed already, the bartender cut him off, thus inconveniently causing him to go find another one further away from his loft. He didn’t mean to, but the pub he went to ‘miraculously’ changed into “Nightingales” when it was originally “Jeff’s”. What kind of name is “Jeff” anyway? Or “Josh”? Sporty names perhaps but he didn’t know of any humans named Jeff or Josh. Where was he going with this? Oh, right! Whiskey!
It was 3am when he had found that perfect inebriated medium that helped him forget about everything. Just enough time to get kicked out… Again. It was fair enough, they were closing. Humans needed sleep after all. His auburn hair was all over the place like someone ruffled it. At his Bentley he hovered and fiddled with his keys trying to focus. Driving drunk was a bad idea, sure, but he wasn’t going to leave his beloved car on some random street. He wasn’t sure when he opened the door, but it was open! He let out a grunt and a sigh, mumbling to himself as he fell into the driver’s seat. Oh, so comfy, he thought. His head swam and his entire body was vibrating. His head lulled back and he just sat there.
Crowley didn’t even notice as the door closed and, even though the keys weren’t in the ignition, the car began to drive itself. He didn’t even have to touch the wheel. He didn’t know how or why it was doing what it was doing and he didn’t have the energy to care. Too drunk. His car uncharacteristically drove on gently moving like the rocking of a boat. He could nearly hear Aziraphale politely complaining to him about the poor state he was in and that he should be kinder to himself. Tears began to swell in his eyes. “Well if you didn’t leave me here maybe I wouldn’t be like this!” He cried out in a cracked voice. Nobody was there. “You left me! You stupid – “ Crowley’s hands went into his face.
He continued ranting to himself.
“They’re going to try using me against you! Do you hear me?! You idiot! They’re going to try waging war and it’s all your fault they’re going to use me. But they can’t.” He gritted his teeth, trying to not sob. “I won’t fight you, angel.” His lip quivered. “I may want to knock your bloody daylights out but I can’t hurt you, I won’t, I can’t…”
He could nearly hear him again. Could nearly hear the angel say he was sorry and wished things were different. That he couldn’t bare the thought of harming him either. The car pulled over somewhere. His head rose and he struggled to see where he was. The book shop? He growled. “What are you doing, Aziraphale?! Are you behind the car thing?!! Stop it! You don’t have the ri…” Oh, shit.
Crowley suddenly found enough coordination to quickly open the car door and spill the contents of his stomach out on the street.
When he was done and felt safe to, he staggered out of the Bentley and to the front of the shop. Opening the door, he stood in pitch darkness. Maybe that was a good thing. He had no trouble seeing in the dark, though walking was an entirely different matter. His chest felt heavier walking in here. The memories he had attatched to this place. Good and bad. It still smelt like him. Crowley sighed. He couldn’t stay furious. At the moment it was too exhausting an emotion. He grimaced at the taste of acid on his tongue. He needed something to drink. Mouth wash perhaps? Or a fizzy drink. Still quite drunk he carefully made his way to the fridge in the back. Maybe the angel left things in there. As he recalled he left the place to Uriel, and she didn’t touch human food anything.
Swinging the door open he was hit with light. He hissed quietly in protest and grabbed the first thing in sight. Chocolate milk. Miraculously it was still fresh like yesterday, though it had been in there for… Oh he didn’t want to know how long. He chugged it down without further thought.
“Ah!! Oh, that hit the spot.” He said with great satisfaction, wiping his mouth off with a sleeve. Before he could close the door, he heard a shuffling noise. Crowley froze. He looked around but couldn’t quite make out form. Everything was still too fuzzy. He had to fix that.
“…Let there be light.” He proclaimed, snapping his fingers. The book shop’s lights all turned on and immediately Crowley was met by a blur of blonde hair headed right for him.
“Doctor!” A cheerful woman cried out.
Her lips immediately went to his as he was quickly backed into a shelf. WHAT the.. Her arms were around him in an embrace and his hands immediately went to her shoulders as the woman finally broke off the kiss to move her chin on his shoulder. “I thought I lost you.” She said with a sigh of relief.
Crowley stared out at nothing in particular. “Ahh. Uh… Uhm.. Sorry, who?”
“You, silly!” She pulled back to look at a flushed and extremely confused and conflicted Crowley who looked like he simultaneously wanted to run and stand in place at the same time. First time a human had ever kissed him and he was a deer in head lights. Her face fell.
“Doctor, what did you do to your hair?” She chuckled, running her fingers through it.
He sluffed her hand away. “You’ve got the wrong person – Sorry. How’d you get in here? Hey!”
She took his glasses off the second she saw gold. “Oh. Oh!” The woman quickly stepped back. “Who are you, and why do you look like the Doctor?” She demanded nervously, holding his glasses. She stared into his golden slit eyes trying to make sense of what she was seeing. He looked like her Doctor… Sounded like him, too. Did they slip into another parallel universe?!
“My name is Crowley, not Doctor.. Who? What’s the.. The guy you’re… Whatever, what’s yours? Tell me exactly how you got here.”
“…Rose. Rose Tyler. What did you do to him? What did you do to the Doctor?”
He was more confused than when he found his way here.
“Who?”