Chapter Text
Crowley sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Aziraphale buttoned up his waistcoat. To say their last few days had been exhilarating would be an understatement. This new aspect to their love life - sex - had been a rather beautiful development for both of them. Crowley found it incredibly healing, even though he had a tough time embracing the concept that he could be healed at all. He still barely believed it, but he couldn’t come up with any other explanation for some of the things he had been feeling since their first time. There was a lightness that squeezed its way around some of his more scary emotions.
Crowley wanted to experience everything with Aziraphale. Everything. He’d fantasized about it for ages, which is what made him so frustrated when it came to the way his mind was working. Despite his desires, his past was insistent on holding him back, feeding him fear and flashbacks.
“I want to be able to do what you do,” he began.
Aziraphale fastened his final button and looked up at Crowley with a sparkling smile. “What is that, my dear fellow? Get dressed properly, without the snap of your fingers?”
Crowley laughed. He had a point - sometimes. “I mean…um…sex-sexually. I want to be able to bottom for you.” He paused.
“Oh.” Aziraphale thought he had an idea of where this was going. He took a step toward Crowley, brushing down the velvet of his waistcoat.
“I, well, I need…um…more time. I want to do it, though.” Crowley suddenly felt very warm. He fidgeted with his blazer.
This was a topic that lingered in the air around them since they first began talking about sex and Aziraphale waited patiently for his love to address it when he felt comfortable. He sat on the bed next to him and took his hand, speaking softly and assuredly. “Crowley, I’m here. However you need me, I will support you. You have my word.”
“Is it okay if I share about my past with you in more detail? About what happened to me? Didn't mean to spring it on you like this. It's been running through my mind this morning.” He implied it to Aziraphale briefly when they first discussed their sexual experience, or lack of it, but he wanted to be sure he was okay with hearing about the details.
“Absolutely, Crowley. You're not springing it on me, my darling.” He reiterated his previous point, “I am here for you. I want to be here for you. I am willing to support you in any way you need at any time.”
“It’s just…” He fidgeted with a button on Aziraphale's waistcoat. “Um, a lot happened to me after my fall. You don’t exactly get a warm welcome note and a lush fruit basket when you first enter Hell.” He took a deep breath and focused on the gentleness in Aziraphale’s eyes. He was safe with his angel. That was a fact that would never get old.
“So, uh…M’not ready to go over specific details, but I did want you to know that I went through a lot back then. W-w-well, I mean, I know you are aware that it was all deeply traumatic. Obviously. The things that happened to my body…” his voice trailed and he stared at Aziraphale’s hand on his own. “It was violent, Angel. And I, uh, I was used a lot. In the worst ways.” It was suddenly very hot in the room. He took off his blazer when he began to feel small beads of sweat form on his back.
Aziraphale’s heart was broken. He’d always known his love had been through unexplainable trauma, but each time Crowley had shared any bit of detail it was like an extra knife in his heart. He was, of course, very proud of Crowley for beginning to talk about this and it was one of his most ardent desires to be there for him in this capacity.
“My heart is with you, Crowley. Always. Please know that I want you to be comfortable. You will receive no judgment from me - only my unwavering love and support.”
Crowley circled a finger around Aziraphale’s ring. “That’s the thing, Aziraphale.” He searched the ceiling for his words. “You make me comfortable. I feel very safe with you.” He looked into his eyes. “Always have, y’know? With us being safe now, I…I feel I can finally tell you my story.”
“Crowley, I am incredibly proud of you. You are miraculous.” He reached up and ran his fingers through Crowley’s hair. “As I have always been since the moment we met, I am in awe of you.”
Crowley was silent for a bit, concentrating on the fingers in his hair and the love in Aziraphale’s voice. He didn’t feel like a miracle, that’s for sure. It had always been a wonder to him that Aziraphale could love him the way that he does.
“Can I tell you more?” Crowley asked. He never thought such a discussion would go like this, on the edge of a bed in Aziraphale’s bookshop. All he knew was that his desire to get his words out, to be known and understood fully, was surging through him with full force. The bookshop had always been a safe haven for the two of them - perhaps there was no better place for him to begin letting Aziraphale in.
“Yes. I’m listening,” Aziraphale answered. He held Crowley’s hands in both of his now.
“They - they wanted me to tempt people, you know,” he lowered his voice, “with sex. That was to be my job. I tried to refuse. I-I did refuse. So, they punished me in that same way…if, if you catch my drift.”
His heart was pounding, bringing a small shake to his voice as he tried to catch his breathing up to it. “There had been some humans on Hell’s payroll who were involved in my torture, but I never did anything to an innocent person. I never went through with it - I need you to know that.”
He wiped tears that streamed down his face. “I fought very hard, Aziraphale. In the end, I won on that matter. That’s when I learned you could fudge paperwork. Taught people about choice, how the body works, and contraception instead. Tempted them to ask questions and think for themselves. That was far more dangerous than any sex act in my mind.” He managed a weak smile.
“You’ve always been very brave and very clever, my darling.” Crowley was the most tenacious being he knew and incredibly intelligent. His strength and drive to keep going, keep hoping, was something Aziraphale had always admired.
“That’s eventually how I ended up with the whole midwife gig. Convinced them I’d win a ton of innocent souls for them that way. Never did get a single soul, but that’s their fault for not following up on my paperwork.” He laughed dryly.
Aziraphale smiled at him. “You’ve always had a very unique way of navigating through the position that was forced on you, Crowley. It’s something that has always kept me in wonder. Well, besides everything else about you.”
Crowley could hear his own pleading and begging screams in his mind. Flashbacks were trying to keep up with him. This had been a good start, but he needed to take a break from talking about it. He felt much more at ease, but he was emotionally exhausted just from this small conversation.
“There’s more and I want to tell you. All of it. I just can’t handle more right now. Didn't even think I would say this much so soon. Um…thank you for listening, Angel.” He brushed his hair back with a trembling hand.
“Crowley, can I please hold you?” Aziraphale opened his arms to the demon, who immediately sank into them. He kissed his fiery head. “I am so, so proud of you, my dear boy. So proud.”
Crowley began to sob with the relief he felt. Somewhere in time, the newly fallen demon Crowley would be proud of himself. Crowley was doing it for him and for the demon he was now. He was doing it for his relationship with Aziraphale and their future together. He held onto the lapels of Aziraphale’s waistcoat, letting his tears soak the fabric.
“There, my love. I have you.” Aziraphale rocked him and continued to kiss his head. Crowley had been so strong in speaking up about his past and Aziraphale’s heart was touched. His own tears poured out, dripping into the flame red hair.
“Oh, your waistcoat,” Crowley sniffed, dabbing at the fabric with his hand.
“No matter, my dearest. None of my material possessions are worth more than your needs. Not a one.” He rubbed a hand up and down Crowley’s back, feeling the heat that had risen in his body.
Crowley sat up and wiped his eyes. “Thank you.” He hugged Aziraphale once more. Vulnerability wasn’t so bad, he thought, when you have an angel to hold onto.
They held onto one another for a while longer before Crowley decided he wanted their day to go on as usual. “Breakfast?”
“You mean, pastry for me and ungodly amounts of caffeine for you?” Aziraphale asked, drying his eyes with a handkerchief. He smiled at the demon using a sleeve for the same thing.
“Exactly. Let’s go.” Crowley hopped off the bed. This was one of Crowley's defense mechanisms. When emotions got to be too much, he’d flip a switch in his mind and focus on something inane and harmless, like breakfast. He'd turn up the charm and crack jokes and everything would be normal.
Their morning continued without much fanfare. They visited the café before heading out to the market for groceries that Aziraphale would need for their suppers during the week. They stopped at a tiny bistro when lunch rolled around. Crowley kept the conversation carefree and silly, avoiding the heaviness of the morning that stood at the edges of all of this thoughts.
After lunch, Aziraphale sat at his desk to work on a large restoration project. Crowley had taken up his usual position on the sofa, body draped in a way that seemed to challenge a few different laws of physics and anatomy. He quietly watched on as Aziraphale worked. Normally, he’d get bored rather quickly and would offer commentary or some sort of snappy quip. Aziraphale knew the silence had to do with their earlier conversation. He hoped Crowley would continue to feel comfortable talking with him about it. He took his spectacles off and turned to him.
“I think I’d rather like some tea. Can I get you anything while I’m up?”
Crowley shook his head. “M’good, Angel.”
Moments later, Aziraphale was back with his tea, plus an extra cup for the demon, just in case. A few biscuits wouldn’t hurt, either.
Crowley accepted them with a smile. “You know me well, Angel.” He took a sip. Chamomile.
“I like to think so,” Aziraphale said cheerfully, taking a bite of a biscuit. “How are you feeling?”
“Me? Fine. Dusty from these books.” He coughed dramatically for effect.
“Mmmm, is that so?” Aziraphale bit into another biscuit. “Our talk this morning was rather heavy-hearted. I wanted to check how you have been feeling since then.”
“Just a lot to process, Angel.” He set his tea down and picked up a biscuit. “Now that I’ve started, I want to tell you even more. It’s like I put a crack in a dam and everything wants to break free and flow out. I’d like to continue talking about it today. If…if that’s okay with you.”
“It is. Let it break free and flow, my darling demon.” He carefully closed the book he had been working on. “Mind if I sit with you?”
“‘Course, Angel. You never have to ask that.”
Aziraphale sank into the sofa next to Crowley and faced him.
“Can I tell you the finer details? They’re…they’re brutal. I need to get that part out before anything else, but I need to be sure you are absolutely okay with hearing it all. I warn you - it’s not for the faint-hearted. Hearing it all will be very upsetting.”
Aziraphale was touched by Crowley’s concern. No matter what discomfort he was in, he’d always make sure to check on the angel. It had been that way forever.
“You can tell me anything, Crowley. Consider this my absolute consent for the future. I want to hear what you need to share and I want to support you through it. You deserve the freedom and safety to let this out and I am here to give you those things. We’ll work on the emotions that crop up together.” Aziraphale felt it was very important that Crowley knew he could freely discuss anything with him. He deserved that.
Crowley could already feel the tears burning his eyes. This part would be the most difficult. He would name actions, he would name names, he would name what it did to his psyche. The flashbacks would be waiting for him. He took a shaky breath and scooted closer to Aziraphale.
Aziraphale pressed himself up against Crowley and took his hand, caressing it with his thumb. He kept his serene gaze locked onto the demon’s, noting the sadness behind his love’s eyes. He hoped that by listening and supporting Crowley he’d be able to help with the healing.
“Well, here goes nothing,” Crowley began with a deep breath in and a heavy exhale.
Crowley shared the gruesome details of the ritualized sexual abuses and rape he endured at the hands of fellow demons and the few humans they employed at the time. His voice broke often and he needed several breaks to regain his breath, especially when some of the harder sobs broke out. Aziraphale guided him and supported him through those rougher moments, breathing with him and soothing him while holding him to his chest. He worked very hard to keep flashbacks from taking hold, a process that was physically draining as much as it was emotionally exhausting. It was one thing to describe what happened, but so many of his flashbacks had a habit of bringing physical reminders in the form of phantom pains, nerves burning under his skin, sounds echoing in his ears and his mind.
Crowley thought he was probably doing this wrong - blurting out so much so quickly - though he was met with a curious sensation in his mind. Telling his story was difficult emotionally and physically, yes, but there was an odd calm happening inside him as well. He could feel the pulse of it taking hold inside of him. It was coming from Aziraphale, he realized. He closed his eyes and let himself just feel it for a minute.
“I need a small break, Angel. Maybe fresh air,” Crowley said.
“Of course, my dear.” Aziraphale stood up and held his arms open.
Crowley stood and immediately collapsed in his arms. Sobs tore out of him as he buried his face in Aziraphale's neck. His lover’s arms were strong around his back and he felt kisses to his head. He felt…safe, as he always was with Aziraphale.
“There now, my darling,” Aziraphale whispered. “I am so proud of you. So very proud. I have you, now. I’m not going anywhere. I have you.”
Aziraphale knew this was necessary work for Crowley, but it was difficult to see how the recounting of the abuses affected him now. It was evident to him that Crowley was struggling on many fronts while talking and Aziraphale found himself trying to balance suggesting breaks and letting Crowley be the guide. He wanted to be there and provide healing comfort, but he didn't want to overstep in a way that would challenge Crowley's own power in the telling of his story. He hoped that he was doing this right.
They decided to take a walk around Soho. It was a brightly sunny, but chilly day and the usual crowd of people bustling through Soho was thinner than usual. It made for an easy and brisk walk for the two of them. Aziraphale desperately wanted to reach for Crowley’s hand during their walk, but they hadn't been comfortable with that level of public affection, yet. They kept their conversation light and simple, commenting on various sights and talking about theater performances they'd like to see.
Crowley regarded a shopkeeper dressing a mannequin in a maternity wear store for a moment, a pang hitting his heart for some reason. His heart had been through a lot on this day and he was extremely grateful that Aziraphale had been exactly what he knew he'd be - the perfect supportive guide that allowed the demon to finally speak up.
“You're perfect, Aziraphale. You know that?” He lightly brushed Aziraphale's back. “Thank you for…for everything.” He took a deep breath. “I don't even know if I am doing any of this right. I’m just babbling.”
Aziraphale noticed the sadness in Crowley's expression. “You're not just babbling, Crowley. Even if you were, that would be fine with me. You're doing wonderfully. Truly.”
They ended their walk with a stop in the café for a second time that day and enjoyed a small chat with Nina while they drank their coffees. Aziraphale noticed that Crowley had switched himself “on” by brightening his expressions and acting like his half cranky and sarcastic self, cracking jokes and delivering well-timed quips. There was a lot to unpack there, Aziraphale thought. He watched as Crowley sorted and precisely lined up packages of sweetener at the counter as he bantered with Nina, laughing when she offered him a job since he was arranging things so nicely.
The moment they walked back into the bookshop, Crowley turned and sank into Aziraphale for a long hug. Aziraphale caressed his fingers up and down Crowley’s neck and listened to his breathing deepen.
“Can we go upstairs?” he asked.
“Of course, darling.”
Aziraphale followed Crowley upstairs, where they sat in the parlour and watched a few Monty Python skits on the television, the demon obviously distracted and not laughing as much at his usual favorite parts. He removed his blazer and tucked himself between Aziraphale's legs, resting his head on the angel’s chest. They decided to skip dinner that evening.
Aziraphale pressed kisses to the top of his head and gently rubbed his back. They stayed like that for a long while until Crowley requested they spend the rest of the evening in bed, in pyjamas, cuddled together. Aziraphale cradled him in his arms as they lay facing one another in the darkened room.
“This is so hard, Aziraphale,” Crowley said quietly. “I need this, but it’s exhausting.”
“I imagine it must be, my dear. What you're doing is incredibly hard work. Incredibly courageous, as well.” He kissed his sigil. “I will never stop telling you how awed I am by you.
Crowley was quiet, contemplative for a few more moments before speaking. “Can I tell you more?”
Aziraphale kissed him between his brows. “Of course, darling. Of course.”
Crowley continued detailing the ways in which he was tortured. Aziraphale held him tightly, noting how his body would shiver and then stiffen. His breath would shudder at times. Despite the dark, they could see one another's eyes and the angel made sure he was projecting love and protection with his.
Crowley broke into a sob when he finished telling him about the very last time he was ever touched in that manner. He buried his face in Aziraphale's neck, the angel's hand softly stroking his hair.
“I’ve got you my darling,” he whispered to Crowley softly.
Aziraphale’s heart shattered over and over again. He felt his grief over the demon’s words explode out of him and pierce into another plane. Behind that was rage, pure rage. Crowley had named everyone involved. The humans were gone by 6,000 years, but his soul whispered damnation to theirs. Only two of the demons involved were left in existence today and, oops, wouldn’t you know - poof - they no longer were. Aziraphale had no shame in making use of the abilities afforded to him. He only wished he could do more harm to those who hurt Crowley. His ancient and original guardian rage burned deep within him while he maintained a calm demeanor in front of the demon. He quickly cooled himself, knowing Crowley would be able to eventually sense the anger. He didn’t want to put that upon him.
“Once I discovered wine…alcohol…oof, all bets were off. Been numbing myself with that for 6,000 years now. It feeds my anger, too. And my impulses. It’s the puppet master of the bitter parts of me, feeding all of my rage and driving me to make decisions that put myself at risk. And…and…this corporation…my body…it remembers all of it. Everything, Aziraphale. I’ve spent my entire existence on this space lump feeling those memories on my skin and inside my body, hearing them and tasting them…all of it on a daily basis. It’s like every nerve I have was forged in its filthy fire - so I can't forget it. It’s never not been a part of me in some way. It fuels so much darkness in me and…and I am okay with a lot of my darkness. I’ve needed it to survive to this point. But the part that is tied to what happened to me makes me sick. I’m so…broken.” His voice cracked on the last word.
Aziraphale knew there was nothing he could say that would help or stop the pain. “Oh, Crowley,” he felt his voice strain over the lump that had built in his throat. “I want to take that pain from you. You don’t have to stay broken, my sweet demon.”
“I don’t even know how to live without it, Aziraphale. It’s in every fiber of me, corporeal and occult…ethereal. It’s so fucked up. I want to wash it all away from me, but I don't know how to be without it.” He ran his fingers along the piping that edged the lapel of Aziraphale's pajamas. He remained in a silent thoughtfulness for a moment.
“That brings me to us, to our relationship. And sex, obviously.” He wiped tears that had fallen from his angel’s eyes. “M’not good with these kinds of sentiments, but everything about you has made the pain bearable all this time.” He paused before letting out a big sigh. “Angel, you’re the star that has been my compass, my guide for my entire life here. That’s how I’ve known that somehow I’d eventually be close to okay, even if it took all these thousands of years.”
“You deserve everything good, Crowley. We will work on this together to help you move closer to being okay. I will always be there. Always.” He continued to stroke his hair. “I love you so much and will do everything in my power to be exactly how and what you need me to be. You are worth it, my dear. Always have been. If I need to keep reminding you about that every hour, I will.” He kissed his forehead.
“Thank you, Angel.” He focused his attention on the soothing rhythm of Aziraphale’s fingers moving through his hair. “Is it okay to talk about my needs with sex?”
“Absolutely! Oh, Crowley. Please know that you have perpetual permission to discuss your needs with me, sexual or otherwise.”
Crowley smiled at Aziraphale’s enthusiasm. He cuddled in closer. “I…um…well, our sex life so far has been one of the most amazing things to happen. Please know that. You now know I’ve been wanting it nearly forever. I went into our first time very nervous - afraid I’d feel all of those bad memories in my body and that flashbacks would take hold. I was worried I’d react terribly or that we would have to stop. None of that happened. Because of who you are. I’ve been able to let you see my body and touch me and I’ve been vulnerable with you sensually in so many ways now. It’s been fantastically beautiful and that's because of the love and safety you've given me so freely. I can finally let my guard down, Angel." He paused, taking in the feel of Aziraphale's hands on him and his body pressed close.
"It's really important to me that you understand that any limits I have in place are not a reflection on you. It's not because you've done anything wrong or that I don't think you're capable of handling my needs." He kissed Aziraphale's nose. "I know you know this, Angel. I also know that you tend to internalize things." He smiled at him.
Aziraphale smiled softly. Crowley was right about internalizing. Aziraphale's heart continued to break over the way Crowley was looking out for his feelings. He wondered what he did to deserve such love.
"You deserve to have your emotions taken care of during all of this, too, Angel. That's something that means a lot to me. We're a couple now. This affects both of us and we're working through it together. Your needs are important, too. Please don't hold anything back when it comes to expressing what you need."
Aziraphale kissed Crowley's head. Crowley always had a knack for understanding what Aziraphale needed to hear. He held Crowley right to his chest for a time, while the demon took a break before continuing.
Crowley stretched back up to look Aziraphale in the eyes. "My most pressing goal is to bottom. I want that so badly, Angel. Been dreaming of it for a long time. That's going to take me a while. I may try it and need to stop and wait some more. Don't know how long it will take me."
"Crowley, if it takes years or centuries, I will be here to work with you."
"I have very hard limits," Crowley continued. "Absolutely no fingers. Not in me. Not in you. Not objects or toys, either. Again, can't do that one on either of us. Those types of activities will likely take me much longer than being fucked, if I can ever accept them at all. For some reason, my mind has decided that such things are more dangerous than the way we have already made love. It's very possible that those two things will never factor into our sex life. Is that okay?"
Aziraphale gave Crowley's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Of course that's okay."
"I really, really like it when you check in with me during sex. I’d love it if you keep doing that and if you let me check in with you as well. Verbal or not, that has meant so much to me. It's sexy, too." He kissed him quickly on the lips. "What I need will change all the time. I may be able to do something one day, but not the next time, y'know? I know you'll be patient with me. You always are," he said softly. "And, I am more than okay with anything you need to ask. I promise it won't upset me. I’m the most open book in your shop,” he chuckled.
Aziraphale laughed quietly with him. “A book, hmm? Then you are my most favorite book. The most gorgeous and well-crafted cover art in all of creation. And the gilded pages inside are filled with wonder, beauty, courage, and heart. A noble tome, indeed.”
Crowley blinked back more tears. Aziraphale and his pretty words always went straight to his heart. “I want…I want my body back. I want my mind back. I want to feel like I have all the control - that I don’t have to worry if a touch or an act is going to make me panic. Don’t want it to have control over me anymore. No more nightmares or flashbacks. No more creepy-crawly, violent feelings in my skin.”
“You deserve all of that, Crowley. You’ve carried all of this for way too long.” Aziraphale’s heart surged with sadness once again over the thought of Crowley carrying this secret alone for thousands of years. “I will help you shoulder the burden. I was a bit of a brute in the old days - I can carry a lot,” he laughed in hopes of raising a spirit or two.
Crowley giggled at that. “You’re still a brute in your own way now. I love that about you. Thank you for that. For being willing to go through this with me.” He sniffed.
“Always, Crowley.” He brushed his hair back and kissed him softly. “Oh, what was that song you loved by that red-haired fellow from the seventies? The one who loved your hair color and hips so much that he copied them…”
“I love how you play dumb, Aziraphale. Never change. You’ve been to dozens of his concerts with me.” Crowley laughed. “He even stole your look in the early 80’s.”
“Yes, but I don’t tend to remember all the bebop. Anyway…oh yes, I remember now. Lovely song altogether. Quite loved the ending of it and I shall embarrass you with it now.”
Crowley chuckled quietly as Aziraphale held him tightly to his body and took his hands before pressing his lips into his hair and singing softly:
Oh no love! you're not alone
You're watching yourself but you're too unfair
You got your head all tangled up but if I could only make you care
Oh no love! you're not alone
No matter what or who you've been
No matter when or where you've seen
All the knives seem to lacerate your brain
I've had my share, I'll help you with the pain
You're not alone
Just turn on with me and you're not alone
Let's turn on with me and you're not alone
Let's turn on and be not alone
Gimme your hands cause you're wonderful…
Crowley had his face buried in Aziraphale's neck, tears streaming heavily from the sound of him singing lyrics that held so much meaning to him. The fact that Aziraphale had made the effort at some point to hold onto those lyrics in his mind carried a significance Crowley felt deep in his soul. The angel knew him through and through. Just as Crowley knew Aziraphale in the same way.
He remembered the first time he saw the song performed live, the black-clad redhead rockstar comforting the audience after announcing a very loosely-defined retirement. It became a song that he cherished, finding it playing exactly when he needed it during low points, for decades and hearing Aziraphale sing the ending of it filled some of the cracks in his soul with the angel’s comforting golden love. He didn't have words that could describe what that moment meant to him. Instead, he sobbed into Aziraphale's protective embrace, feeling wings mantle around him. Crowley searched the feelings that were coming up, realizing he was finally seen and understood for all that he was and all that he had been through. He let himself relax into the sensations of being safe and unconditionally loved. There was much to overcome, but Crowley could feel the lightness that came with this new healing. He almost felt weightless in Aziraphale's arms as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.
Aziraphale remained awake, as he often does. He held onto Crowley through the night, willing all of the love he has ever held for him to fill the demon. He alternated between his feelings of heartbreak, especially as sudden realizations over past Crowley behavior provided clarity, and the overwhelming pride he had for Crowley’s bravery and willingness to heal. He’d always admired his dearest friend turned lover, often wishing that Crowley could see himself through his eyes. Perhaps he finally was, Aziraphale thought, and that was why he believed he was worthy of healing now. Aziraphale was proud of himself, too. He turned out to be a refuge for the greatest love he had ever known and that was not insignificant. Aziraphale knew the road ahead wouldn't be easy, but he was eager to see where it would lead.