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"I'm not nice. Nice is a four letter word that's not associated with me at all-" Crowley muttered to himself as he made his way down the street and away from Aziraphale's bookshop. The angel had once again made the mistake of calling the demon something that was good, and he was not having it.
Of course, Crowley could never actually stay mad at Aziraphale, whether he wanted to or not. His angel obviously never meant to upset him, but sometimes things just slip out. And it wasn't as if Crowley was a normal demon. His ideals really didn't align with those of Hell's, and he couldn't care less.
Not to mention, he didn't answer to Hell anymore, not after The Armageddidn't. After the pair had switched places and he'd stepped into Hellfire as Aziraphale and Aziraphale took a bath in Holy Water as him, the two sides left them alone.
Crowley didn't realise where he was until he looked up from his moping, at the park that he and Aziraphale usually went to feed the ducks. He liked the ducks.
Unfortunately for him, the park was full of people, and he wasn't really in the mood to socialise. Sighing, he sauntered over to the bench that he often used with Aziraphale. Their bench. Something about it belonging to the both of them sent a thrill of joy through his mind.
"Hey Mister!" The voice of a young child snapped him out of his thoughts, and he looked down to see a boy holding up a pair of the glasses that he wore. His hand automatically shot up to his face, his fingers brushing over a pair identical that covered his eyes. "You dropped these."
Oh. The spare pair must've fallen out of his pocket. No big deal.
"Keep 'em, kid." Crowley replied, waving a hand dismissively at him. The kid blinked owlishly at him, before slipping on the shades. When Crowley swears he almost had to do a double take, he meant it. The kid looked like a mini version of him. The glasses, the hair, the black hoodie (admittedly, it wasn't leather, but you get the point). How had he not noticed this earlier?
"Thank you, Mister!" The boy clapped, a smile full of joy etched on his face. Crowley's heart melted a little at the sight (not that he would tell anyone, much less admit it). He then turned to leave, running back in the direction he came from.
"..."
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Crowley had pretty much forgotten about the incident with the boy after a few days, when he was back at the park. By now, he had reconciled with Aziraphale, and everything was going just fine. Not great, not bad, just okay. He was slouched on the usual bench, idly throwing frozen peas at the ducks.
This activity - if you could even call it that - was interrupted by the same young child that Crowley had given his shades to a couple of days ago. He scrambled onto the other side of the bench and just sat there, staring in front of him. Crowley sighed.
"What d'you want?" He asked boredly, attempting to keep up his nonchalant and uncaring façade. The boy turned to face him, a smile sat upon his face once again.
"I came to say hi! I saw you... um- not yesterday?" Crowley cracked a smile but hid it with his hand. He always did have a soft spot for children, although he constantly denied it to anyone who asked. "What's your name?"
"Aaauuhhhh... call me Anthony." Crowley answered carefully, eyeing the child but not directly looking at him. "Yours?"
"My what?" The boy looked up innocently, rolling a pea in between his hands before throwing it towards where the ducks were sat waiting for more. Crowley rolled his eyes, though they were unseen.
"Your name."
"Oh. I dunno." Crowley blinked. Not because he needed to, but because he was surprised. What did he mean, he doesn't know? Isn't that one of the first thing a child knows, their name? "I wasn't given one I guess."
"Don't be ridiculous, everyone has a name." Crowley muttered. The boy only watched him.
"Not me." The boy looked straight ahead, and Crowley wondered if it was something he had said. "I guess I have to go. I'll come back, A... Anty?"
"Uh- yeah. Okay." Crowley watched as he ran off. By now, he was quite confused.
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When Crowley had gotten back to his flat, the first thing he wanted to do was sleep for about another century. Unfortunately, his mind had different ideas and refused to let him to so.
Crowley could confidently say that he wasn't the best with kids. Or comfort. Or pretending to have any idea was was going on. He was still on the topic of the child. Sorry, what child doesn't have a name?? He was thoroughly confused.
Perhaps he should go for a drive. Yeah. His Bentley always seemed to calm him down, while he was driving at insane speeds down roads not meant for it, blasting Queen songs at the loudest they could go (somehow, they always seemed louder than before). Kind of ironic, he knew.
Crowley smiled and swung the car keys around his finger (not that he actually needed them, the car would start regardless), before stepping out of the house. And that was when he heard it.
A strange sort of rustling sound from just a few houses away, accompanied with clashing of garbage bin lids of someone who was trying to be quiet. Crowley sighed once again and flicked his shades on, before following the noise.
The alleyway seemed overgrown and unattended, and Crowley found himself pushing away stray bramble and nettles. Grumbling slightly, he eventually found the origin of the noise.
Crowley sighed.
Really?
It was the same child as before, the little boy was scrambling around in the trash bins. Crowley watched as he pulled out what looked to be a half eaten apple, his heart wrenching as the boy beamed at it like it was a toy his parents finally got him. Speaking of, where were his parents?
"Hey!" Crowley hit a hand against the wall, cursing under his breath as a hand hit a spike from the overgrown bramble. The boy froze, before cautiously turning to face Crowley.
He grinned at him.
The boy smiled at Crowley as if there was nothing wrong at all (there clearly was).
"Hi Mister Anty!" Crowley felt conflicted. "Welcome to my home!" He felt his heart drop.
"This... isn't a home, kid." Crowley internally argued with himself before hesitantly offering the boy a hand. He took it with no hesitation. "So... no parents then, I'm guessing? Oh who am I kidding? Obviously no parents."
"What's a parent?"
"..." Crowley turned away. "Nothing." He then turned back, his hand still clasped with the boy's.
"How about you come with me, kid?"
YOU ARE READING
If The World Is To Fall
Fanfiction"If the world is to fall, I'll be there." Crowley promised, looking down at the young boy. He looked back up at the demon, a bright and unknowing smile etched on his face. Crowley didn't often promise things. Very rarely, if fact, that even Aziraph...
