19; Like Looking In A Mirror (But Stranger)

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Context: Based on windmogica's "Gone Omens" AU over on Instagram.

There seems to be a strange warp of some kind when it comes to the multiverse, evident by the fact that Crowley has just met a version of his angel which Fell and a version of himself who never did. He and Aziraphale quickly learn something about themselves thanks to this visit.

Word Count: 4,500

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Crowley's POV:

It was a lovely day at St. James Park. The sun was shining, birds were singing, children were playing and, most importantly, the world hadn't ended. It had been months actually, but they were still incredibly giddy about it. Plus, they had been getting closer since Armageddon. Thanks to this, Aziraphale thought it an excellent idea to meet Crowley there for a walk in the park. And considering all they had gone through together, how could Crowley refuse? Impossible! So, he drove himself to St. James the moment he hung up.

As the demon made his way over to their usual bench, he saw a very familiar figure in a very unfamiliar outfit and hairstyle.

What's gotten into him?

As he stepped closer, something horrifying dawned on him. The angelic presence he had known for six millennia wasn't there anymore.

No. No. Nonononononono!

He approached, holding his breath. Before he could even reach out to him, the blond turned and met his gaze. Rather than sadness, Crowley was met with just as much shock.

"You Fell..." He said, looking just about as heartbroken as Crowley felt.

Did you lose your blessed memory too? Angel, no... "Yeah, 6,000 years ago, what are you on about?!" He lashed out.

Aziraphale's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Six thousand-! Crowley you're not making any sense!"

Crowley shook his head, left hand shooting into his hair and pulling at it in distress. "We were together yesterday, you were fine! How could you not tell me you Fell when we talked on the phone this morning?!"

You sounded fine! Happy! Like yourself, not this! Oh, Satan, you've even got a demon mark. You poor bastard...

The blond demon said nothing, simply staring Crowley's hand. Instinctively, he grabbed his own left hand to touch the golden ring with the bright blue stone.

"You're not my angel... And I'm not yours... Something's very wrong here..." He said with a stern look as he glanced all over the park for signs of anything unusual.

Crowley, confused as anything, knew he was onto something. This wasn't his Aziraphale, and he had to find out where his was.

~~~~~

Aziraphale's POV:

The former Guardian Of The Eastern Gate was just about reaching the park's entrance when he came upon what looked like Crowley trying out a new fashion sense.

A turtleneck? When has Crowley ever bothered covering himself up this much in modern times?

"I say, dear boy, are you alright?" He asked as he got closer.

The scrawny being turned at the sound of his voice, but simply stared back. Eventually, he spoke. "Darling, what are you wearing? And why did you cover up your mark?"

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